Deny Thy Father
by arineat
Summary: When Arthur refuses to marry the woman Uther chooses, he loses everything. With the help of his step-sister and a few strange new friends, will Arthur finally be able to step out of his father's shadow and become his own man? Modern AU.
1. Part I

A/N: This was written forthe Merlin_Muses prompt fest over on Livejournal. Many thanks to Cheryl and Accioscar for the Beta and Brit-pick, respectively.

ETA: DAMN YOU, FF net , FOR TAKING OUT MY SPACERS! :(

**Deny Thy Father**

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Arthur Pendragon and Vivian Turner in the bonds of Holy Matrimony."

It took every ounce of Arthur's breeding not to wince at the word 'bonds' as the feeling of panic he'd been fighting for months threatened to overtake him again. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to shove it down as he tuned out the vicar's droning. Arthur's eyes swept surreptitiously over the multitude of guests; the very highest of London society, decked out in their finest jewels and couture, all there to witness the merger of two of England's most wealthy and prestigious families – eighty percent of them Arthur had never met before.

Arthur's gaze fell to his father, sitting at the head of the congregation with a slight smirk on his face. It was the same look Arthur saw any time Uther had closed a lucrative business deal. Which, Arthur supposed, was exactly what his father saw this as; a business deal to secure the future of his global media empire. Uther had been after Turner Industries for years and had finally seen a way in through Olaf Turner's daughter. It was he who had thrown Arthur and Vivian together. He'd spent his time ensuring that Arthur spent plenty of time with Vivian and that they were seen at every last high society function. When the tabloids had started rumours of a pending engagement, Uther had heartily encouraged it, even going so far as to allow one of his own magazines to quote him saying 'Arthur and Miss Turner are very much in love and I couldn't imagine a better choice for a daughter-in-law, even if I'd picked her myself'. A few weeks later, he had crisply informed Arthur that he would propose to Vivian and be married before the summer was out.

Oh, God. Could he do this? The well of panic began to rise again; he felt helpless as a desperate need to escape filled him. Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting to take in the sight of his bride. Vivian was breathtaking in her Swarovski-encrusted gown, her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she preened for her audience. The perfect image of a blushing bride. And that's what it was. An image. A delicate illusion for the masses.

"Do you, Arthur, take Vivian..."

"No."

The word was out before Arthur even had a chance to think about it. He started, just as surprised as the congregation seemed to be.

"I'm sorry, young man?" the vicar asked, clearly assuming he'd heard wrong.

"Arthur..." His father's voice cut through the rising din of murmuring socialites and Arthur had to shove back a shiver of fear.

"Arthur?" Vivian looked at him, her crystal blue eyes wide with confusion.

"I'm sorry, Vivian. I can't," Arthur said softly.

With a nod to the flabbergasted Vicar, Arthur turned and strode from the ballroom and headed for his chambers, ignoring his father's outraged cry. He loosened his bow tie as he walked, the pressure of it around his neck making him feel as though he were choking. Arthur managed to make it to his private sitting room before his father caught up.

"Arthur, what the devil are you doing? Get back out there!"

"I'm sorry, Father, I can't."

"You can and you will!" Uther insisted, his expression and tone brooking no arguments.

"I don't love her, father."

"And what does that matter? I've been planning this merger for over three years, I will not have you spoil it now because of some fool's notion about marrying for love."

Arthur stared in disbelief at his father's words as anger rose up to mingle with hurt and regret.

"Do you even _hear _yourself? This is my wedding, what should be the most important and happiest day of my life, and you're referring to it as a 'business merger'. This is the rest of my life we're talking about, Father, and I will not spend it married to a woman I don't love and who doesn't love me."

"Again with this 'love' nonsense. Forget love, Arthur, what about honour? What about your duty to your name? To your family? To the empire I've worked my entire life to build for you? What about your loyalty and duty to _me_?"

"I've done everything you've ever asked me to!" It was all Arthur could do not to shout the words. "You've _always_ had my loyalty. I've let you make all the major decisions in my life and never once have I fought you on it, but I will _not_ let you make this one. I'm sorry, father."

Uther stared at him for a long moment, the vein in his head throbbing as the muscle in his jaw clenched again and again.

"And so am I," he answered finally, his voice deadly quiet. Arthur had a moment to hope that maybe, just maybe, Uther had accepted his decision before he continued. "If you do not fix your tie and go back out there and marry that woman, then I'll have no choice but to cut you off."

Arthur's eyes widened, his chest tightening at the meaning behind his father's threat.

"What?"

"You heard me. Marry Vivian or you're through. I will cut you out of my will, my company, my life. You will cease to be a Pendragon." Uther's face was cold and formal, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed rage and it was all Arthur could do not to accede to his wishes.

Once again, he pictured his life with Vivian; coming home after work to a cold, empty house and a cold, empty wife, his schedule filled with endless obligatory parties and social engagements simply to appease the media and the masses. Forever having money, but never having the comfort of a partner to share the things he loved with. Arthur shuddered at the mental image and his resolve strengthened.

"What is to be your answer?" Uther demanded. Arthur straightened his spine and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Father," Arthur repeated, somehow managing to keep the tremor from his voice. "I can't."

Uther's face shut down completely, his posture stiffening as he raised his head imperiously.

"So be it," he practically hissed before turning on his heel and storming from the room.

Arthur slumped the second his father was gone, feeling weary, spent and more than a little bit hollow. He couldn't believe he'd done it. He'd stood up to his father and won. If one could call losing his entire inheritance and life as he knew it a victory. Strangely enough, despite the ache in his chest and the rising fear of not knowing what his future held, Arthur was certain that it was.

xXx

Arthur woke in his bed still dressed in rumpled wedding finery. He sighed as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. For the first time in years he didn't have anywhere specific to be. Had he gone through with the wedding yesterday, he'd be on his way to the tropics with Vivian. Any other day he'd have been up and to the office hours earlier. It was more than a little disconcerting to realise that he wouldn't have to go to that office and that job ever again.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur rose from the bed and padded into the kitchen to make himself some coffee as he tried to sort through his roiling emotions. Part of him felt like he was missing something; as if losing this routine, however droll and expected it had been, had left a hole somehow. Arthur had only ever worked for Camelot Media Corporation and the thought of finding a new job was both utterly terrifying and strangely exciting. He felt a twinge of guilt as he thought of his father. Though Arthur knew he'd done the right thing, he'd been raised to always agree with Uther. It was something that had been ingrained in him since he could remember and Arthur knew it would take a while to get past it.

Despite his guilt and uncertainty, what Arthur felt more deeply than anything was an unbelievably liberating sense of freedom. It was as if a lead weight had been taken from his shoulders. He was his own man for the first time in his life. And for the first time in days, Arthur's lips formed a smile.

The coffee machine gave a beep, pulling him from his thoughts. He poured himself a large mug, laden with milk and sugar, and made his way into the sitting room. The blinking red light of the answering machine caught his eye, drawing him near. After a moment of indecision, Arthur let out a heavy sigh and reluctantly pressed the playback button.

"_Hello, this is Edel Peterson from the _Daily Mail _ringing for Arthur Pendragon. I was wondering if you might be interested in giving us an exlu..."_

"Arthur, darling, it's Vivian. How could you do this to me? Please, can't we work this out? Ring me..."

"This is Uther Pendragon's personal assistant. I'm calling to inform you that Mr Pendragon has given you twenty-four hours to gather your personal belongings from your former offices and to vacate the company flat..."

Arthur deleted message after message with increasing agitation. Half of them were from reporters scrambling for a scoop, though how they'd got his number was a mystery. The other half seemed to be from Vivian and various members of her family. Arthur was nearly ready to throw the damned thing out of the window when he heard a voice he'd not heard in nearly a year.

"_Arthur, it's Morgana. I heard what happened. Call me._"

Arthur stared at the machine as the mechanical voice finally announced that there were no more new messages. Morgana and he hadn't spoken in ages, the last time culminating in a fight where she'd called him a coward and an automaton with a daddy complex before storming out to 'leave him to his pathetically shallow existence in Uther Pendragon's shadow'. She was the last person he had expected to hear from, but now that he had, he was overcome by an overwhelming urge to see her. His step-sister was vicious and brutally honest to a fault and until that moment he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed her.

The phone rang just as he lifted it to dial. Morgana's number flashed in the tiny window and he smiled. He should have known she'd beat him to the punch.

"Hello, Morgana," he greeted without preamble.

"I saw what happened. How are you?"

"All right, all things considered. I'm not surprised the press were so quick to pounce on it, though. How bad are the headlines?"

"You don't want to know. The paps are practically frothing at the mouth."

Arthur could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

"I've never been more proud of you, you know," Morgana said, filling the sudden silence with uncharacteristic approval. Arthur blushed, warmth blooming in his chest at the praise. "It was about damn time you got your head out of his arse."

Arthur rolled his eyes and smiled as the seriousness of the moment passed into more familiar territory.

"Gee, thanks, Morgana," he replied with fond irritation.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Arthur sighed heavily. That was the million pound question he'd been asking himself since the moment he'd said 'no'.

"I don't know yet. I suppose the first thing I need to do is find somewhere to stay. Father has given me twenty-four hours to vacate my flat."

"How gracious of him."

"Isn't it just?" Arthur quipped sarcastically.

"Listen, why don't you come stay with me?"

Arthur blinked at the unexpected offer.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Sure, why not? I mean, you'll have to stay on the sofa for a few nights until we sort out sleeping arrangements, but we can figure something out. Unless, of course, you want to ask one of your rugby mates if they can spare a room. How is Gawain, anyway?"

Arthur groaned at the thought of staying with Gawain. As much as he liked his friend, Gawain hadn't seemed to be able to get out of his University lifestyle of drinking, parties and indiscriminate sex. Not that Arthur was opposed to such activities, of course, he liked them as much as the next bloke, but he was almost twenty-seven years old and given a choice between the biohazardous, food-barren flat of Gawain's and Morgana's tidy, well-stocked house, he'd choose his sister any day.

"Last I heard he was living in a flat above the Red Lion and shagging two different sets of triplets."

"Charming," Morgana replied with an inelegant snort.

"I know," Arthur answered, amusement tinting his voice. He sobered and thought about her offer. It irked him and he wasn't sure if it was his stubborn pride or that part of him that was taught never to accept charity, but he found himself reluctant to accept her generosity. "You don't have to put me up, you know. I'm sure I could find a nice hotel to..."

"Oh for fuck's sake, don't be an arse. Pack your bits and get over here."

"You really don't mind?"

"You know me better than that, Arthur. Do you really think I'd have offered if I didn't want you here?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. No. If Morgana didn't want him around, she'd be more than happy to tell him; likely with various colourful expletives woven throughout an emasculating speech. It was good to know some things never changed.

"I'll see you tonight."

"It's a date."

"Hey, Morgana?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

xXx

When all was said and done, Arthur was really quite surprised at how little he actually owned. Between everything from his flat and the few personal belongings from his office, he found himself standing at Morgana's front door with a few suitcases filled mostly with clothes and a tiny box of office supplies. It really was quite pitiful, Arthur thought as he raised a fist to knock on Morgana's door.

Instead of Morgana, a lovely girl with skin the colour of mocha and chocolate-brown eyes answered the door.

"Hello," she greeted with a smile, her brows arching in expectation.

"Er, hi. I was looking for Morgana LeFey?"

"Oh, you must be Arthur. I'm Gwen. Come on in," she said, opening the door wide in invitation. "Here, let me help you with that."

"It's all right, I've got it," Arthur replied as he dragged his meagre belongings into the sitting room. Just as he set down the last suitcase, Morgana swept into the room.

"Arthur, you made it. I see you've met Gwen."

"Yes, only just," he answered, shooting a small smile at Gwen as he let his rucksack slip from his shoulders.

Arthur moved to set his bag on the sofa, only to hear a vicious yowling hiss. Lifting the bag, he nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw what could only be described as the most hideous, evil-looking creature he'd ever had the misfortune to encounter.

"Morgana, what the _hell_ is _that_?"

Morgana looked over and smiled fondly as she walked to the sofa and lifted the glaring monstrosity. "This is Mordred."

"Yes, but _what_ is it?" Arthur asked warily, edging away from the truly malevolent look the animal was sending him.

"He's a cat."

"I'm sorry, but that is _not_ a cat."

"He's a show-quality Sphynx cat and the height of good breeding," Morgana replied with a sniff.

"That is a wrinkled demon that looks like it's about to suck out my soul."

Morgana narrowed her eyes and held the 'cat' closer to her chest. "Don't listen to him, Mordred, he's just a sad little man with no discernable taste."

Before Arthur could reply, the door opened and a ridiculously attractive man entered the room. The guy gave a whole new meaning to the term "tall, dark and handsome" and were Arthur a man with confidence issues, he might have felt intimidated.

"Let me guess, you live here too?" Arthur asked by way of greeting.

The newcomer looked up and gave a friendly smile.

"Not officially, but I certainly spend enough time here. I'm Lance," he replied, offering his hand. Arthur shook it and gave him a firm nod. Before he could take his hand back, Lance was leaning forward with a slight frown. "Oh, my."

"What?" Arthur asked warily.

"Your aura is really murky. You should let me cleanse it for you."

"Lance is a brilliant spiritual healer," Gwen added, looking at Lance as if he were the only man on Earth.

Arthur backed away as Lance lifted his hands and started tracing the air in front of Arthur's face. "A-a-ll right, then," he drawled slowly, as if he were talking to a mentally unstable person (and for all he knew, he was). "I'll think about it. Thanks."

Arthur shot a dubious look to Morgana, who merely smiled with faux sweetness and batted her lashes. Rolling his eyes, he finished pushing the last of his bags into the corner beside the sofa and sat with a sigh.

"So, are there any other housemates I should know about?"

"Just one. His name's Merlin. He's at work now. You'll meet him later."

"Can't wait," Arthur said with false enthusiasm.

Morgana simply rolled her eyes and turned to the others.

"Well, since we're all here, do you guys fancy a takeaway?"

They ordered Indian from a little place around the corner and Arthur spent the evening laughing, chatting and getting to know Gwen and Lance. Gwen was a primary school teacher full of amusing stories about her students' antics and Arthur took an instant liking to her sweet nature. Surprisingly, despite his rather unconventional introduction, Lance was pretty normal. He ran a holistic health food shop not far from the house and was very passionate about all things spiritual. All in all, they got on well and for the first time in weeks, Arthur felt himself relax. Sleeping on the sofa was a bit of a step down from the luxury of his old flat, but the company was infinitely better.

As Arthur slid beneath the duvet and settled himself for sleep, a sense of contentment fell over him. He'd done the right thing in finally breaking free of his father. Until that moment, he hadn't been completely sure, but it seemed things were finally starting to look up. Things were tight, but he had a roof over his head, food in his stomach, his sister back and a couple of new – if somewhat eccentric – friends. He still had yet to meet the last of the housemates, but if this Merlin was as agreeable as the other two, Arthur would be satisfied. With that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

xXx

Arthur woke to the unmistakable sound of two people snogging. He frowned into the dim light of the room, trying to make out who was responsible for it – no pun intended. A deep chuckle met his ear, followed by a series of suggestive whispers. Arthur opened his mouth to make his presence known only to have the wind knocked out of him by a very heavy, if gangly, body.

There were a few moments of wrestling with tangled limbs and a deadly duvet, but finally, Arthur managed to kick the intruder off him, sit up and catch his breath. Reaching over, he flipped on the standing lamp beside the sofa and his eyes locked with a pair of wide brilliant blue. His heart stuttered in his chest – surely a residual product of lingering shock – before he finally found his voice.

"What the very _fuck_?"

"God, I'm so sorry. You must be Arthur. I completely forgot you were...I'm Merlin," said the man who'd landed on him, offering his hand. Arthur ignored it, glaring petulantly as he took in Merlin's appearance. Black hair, pale skin and full lips pulled into an apologetic smile all framed with the most ungainly pair of ears Arthur had ever seen. Merlin withdrew his hand after a few seconds and awkwardly gestured to the man beside him. "Um...this is Will."

"Great. Now that we've dispensed with the introductions, would you mind taking your little boyfriend and leaving me in peace? I was _trying_ to sleep, after all," Arthur said with a sneer. He hated to be awakened, especially when the cause of his waking was a pair of horny men landing on his chest.

Merlin jerked back in apparent surprise before his expression melted into an irritated frown.

"There's no need to be such a prat about it," he insisted, his tone belligerent, "I said I was sorry."

"You're sorry. Well, fat lot of good that does me when I've been awakened so rudely and probably won't be able to get back to sleep. Really, your pathetic little apology helps _ever_ so much," Arthur replied, sneering so hard, his face almost hurt with the effort.

"Wow. Morgana said you were spoilt, but I had no idea you'd be such an arrogant prick."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he barely resisted the urge to throw something at the cheeky fucker. "Just take your loverboy over there and get out of my sight. God knows the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep is the two of you sucking the faces off one another. I'll have nightmares for weeks."

"Oi, who the fuck do you think you are, you fucking tosser?" Will growled, stepping forward with clenched fists. Merlin stopped him with a hand on his wrist and a minute shake of his head.

"Terribly sorry, _your majesty_, we'll make sure to keep our deviant practices well away from you. We wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities," he quipped with a glower as he pulled Will out of the sitting room and up the stairs.

Arthur stared at the stairs for a few moments longer before flopping back down onto the sofa with an irritable grumble. What kind of person stumbled in at – Arthur checked his watch – half two in the bloody morning and got off with their gay lover on top of an unsuspecting man? It was indecent is what it was. And then he had the nerve to get cheeky with him? All flashing eyes and flushed cheeks and those ridiculous ears. Arthur scoffed to himself. Some people were just unbelievable.

xXx

The next morning, Arthur awoke to a gentle pressure on his chest. Slowly, he blinked awake to find the demon, Mordred, levelling a death glare at him – he didn't care what Morgana said, he could see murder in those eyes – and let out a rather unmanly squeak and fell from the sofa, dislodging the 'cat' in the process. He watched it slink away as he fought to catch his breath, a shudder running through him as the creature threw one last glance his way.

Muttering to himself about evil minions of the devil, Arthur untangled himself from the duvet and padded into the kitchen in search of some tea. He stood blinking at the cupboards for a few moments before opening one after the other. Just as he was beginning to despair of ever finding the teabags, a tin container was thrust under his nose.

"We keep the tea in here."

Arthur turned his head to find Merlin standing beside him.

"You know, in the one marked 'tea'," he continued, his lips quirked in a hesitant smile.

"Right. I knew that," Arthur said, taking the tin from him and lifting the lid to find much needed teabags. He put one in his mug and set the kettle to boil. There was an awkward silence as he leaned against the counter and waited impatiently for the water to heat.

"Listen, Arthur, I wanted to apologise for last night," Merlin said suddenly. "I honestly forgot you were coming or we'd have been more quiet."

Arthur looked over, taking in Merlin's earnest expression. He looked a bit like a puppy with the way his eyes widened almost comically and Arthur found himself nodding his acceptance before he'd even realised that was his intent.

"Thanks," he muttered before graciously adding, "I suppose I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"You _suppose_?" Merlin asked with a raise of his brow and a small smirk.

"Yeah, all right, I shouldn't have. I'm sorry," Arthur said with a tiny huff. "I can be a bit cranky when I wake up."

"So I noticed."

The words were said easily, with a hint of amusement rather than ire and Arthur found himself relaxing. It seemed Merlin wasn't too bad when he wasn't being a stubborn arse. He even found himself reaching up and fetching another mug from the cupboard for Merlin. He figured he may as well since he was making tea anyway.

"Anyway, I managed to get a decent bit of sleep afterward, so it wasn't really that big of a deal," he admitted as he dropped a tea bag into the second cup. "Now I just have to figure out how to keep that thing Morgana calls a cat away from me. As bad as it was being sat on, it was far worse to wake up to the face of evil."

"_That's_ what had you out here shrieking like a little girl this morning? Mordred?" Merlin said with a delighted giggle.

"Hey, I did _not_ shriek like a _girl_," Arthur retorted with a frown. "I was very manly. Besides, I'd like to see _you_ be calm and collected when the devil's minion is staring at you from inches away."

"He's a _cat_, Arthur. There's nothing evil about him."

Arthur affected a pitying look and shook his head at Merlin, tsking softly. "It looks like I'm too late. Morgana has already brainwashed you. It's so sad."

Merlin rolled his eyes so hard, his head turned with it and Arthur found his eyes drawn to the long, pale line of his neck. He swallowed, trying to banish the sudden urge to see if the skin was as soft as it looked.

"..ridiculous, you know that?"

Merlin's voice finally registered, bringing Arthur out of his momentary reverie. Arthur shook his head and let out a rather forced scoff.

"Whatever you say, _Mer_lin," he said, turning as the kettle finished boiling, grateful to have something to do with his hands. Filling the mugs, he paused as he remembered Merlin's 'guest' from last night. For some reason, the thought of Will made his hackles rise. "Should I make a cup for your jerk of a boyfriend or is he gone already?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin's smile slip into a frown and the line of his body go tense.

"How exactly is Will a jerk?"

"He was a complete twat last night."

"Oh, because _you_ were so polite? He was only reacting to your shitty attitude," Merlin snapped. "Are you some sort of homophobe or something?"

Arthur's gaze snapped up at that, meeting Merlin's with indignation flowing through him. "I am _not_ a homophobe. I just don't like him."

"Yeah, well, considering I've known you for less than twenty-four fun-filled hours, your opinion doesn't really matter. Next time, keep it to yourself. Thanks for the tea," he said with a slight sneer, taking both mugs and stalking from the kitchen.

Arthur stared dumbly at the spot where Merlin had been before shaking his head and turning to grab another mug, muttering under his breath about skinny prats and their arsehole boyfriends. He slammed the cupboard door just as Morgana breezed into the kitchen.

"Oooh, someone's in a mood this morning," she drawled. "Do you have anything to do with why Merlin had a face like a slapped arse when I passed him in the hall just now?"

Arthur just frowned harder and poured hot water into his new mug, pushing the tea bag around with his teaspoon as he waited for the tea to steep. He let out an indignant noise as Morgana promptly swiped the newly prepared mug from him.

"Thanks so much for the tea, brother dearest," she said, amusement colouring her voice.

Biting back a growl of frustration, Arthur retrieved yet _another_ mug and poured the very last of the boiled water over his teabag, his fingers curled protectively around the handle lest someone try to steal that one as well. He added milk and stirred, depositing his spoon in the sink before he moved to sit across from Morgana at the table with a petulant frown on his face.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" Morgana asked, her tone the very essence of boredom.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but capitulated, knowing it would only be worse if he made her wait. He explained about being rudely awakened at after two in the morning, Merlin sitting on him, his arsehole boyfriend and the fight they'd had. He chose to ignore her laugh when he told her of Mordred's wake up call that morning and the subsequent chat-turned-argument that had Merlin storming from the kitchen only moments before she'd made her appearance.

"And then that tosser accused me of being a homophobe! _Me_! I've never been homophobic. For fuck's sake, Gawain is my best friend and we all know he shags at _least_ as many blokes as he does birds and tells you twice as many details about them!"

"I can't really blame him for thinking that though. You did act like an antagonistic wanker when you brought it up this morning."

"I most certainly did not!"

"'Should I make your _jerk_ of a boyfriend a cup, too' oh no, you're right that's the epitome of friendly," Morgana replied sarcastically. "Why do you hate Will so much, anyway? You don't even know him."

"I don't hate him, I just don't like him," Arthur stated defiantly glaring into his tea. He looked up to see Morgana arching a thoughtful brow at him.

"I see. Well, on _that_ note of flawless logic, I'm off to work," she said as she rose from the table and rinsed out her cup.

Arthur watched her sweep from the room, his thoughts still swirling about in his head. It wasn't that he didn't want to get along with Merlin; they'd really seemed to be hitting it off until he'd opened his mouth and insulted Merlin's boyfriend. Once he calmed down, he could admit, at least to himself, that he really had been unnecessarily abrasive. Arthur didn't know what it was about Will that wound him up, but he _was_ Merlin's boyfriend and he knew if he wanted any chance of living in peace - or being Merlin's friend - he'd have to force himself to try and tolerate the belligerent arse. But he refused to make him tea.

Nodding his resolve to himself, Arthur rose and rinsed his mug out, feeling just a bit better as he headed into the sitting room to begin his search for employment.

xXx

Over the next few weeks, Arthur settled into a routine. He would wake up – usually to the villainous stare of Mordred - make his tea and engage in a verbal sparring match with Merlin before pounding the pavement in search of a job. Unfortunately, he was having a horrible time trying to find anyone that would hire him. It was really starting to get to him. He had nearly ten years of experience working in corporate media and a brilliant record that he'd earned on his own and not (as some of his former co-workers had speculated) because of who his father was, but he was continuously turned away.

After the first few companies refused to even meet with him, Arthur had called his last ally in Camelot Media, Leon, and found out that his father had not only barred him from Camelot and all of its affiliates, but that he was also making the rounds to other big name corporations to ensure that Arthur remained on the outs. Hurt and rage had suffused him when he'd found out, but in the end there was nothing he could do. He had no proof.

So Arthur had begun looking for other jobs. Every morning he searched the paper and the internet for possible employment and every single time he was told that he was "over qualified" or "just not what they're looking for". Each rejection was harder than the one before it and Arthur was slowly, but surely starting to lose faith that he'd ever get his feet under him.

At least he had some money saved up and could afford to pay his share of the rent. Morgana and he had argued about it, but Arthur refused to stay in a house and not pay his equal share. It wasn't right and there was no way he could accept such blatant charity. His funds would hold out for a while, but sooner or later, they would be gone and Arthur was determined he would have an income before they disappeared altogether.

Which was why Arthur was currently digging through the hall cupboard, looking for a clean shirt to wear. He had an interview the next day and he was absolutely determined to charm the pants off them and _finally_ land a job. A small pout formed on his face as he shifted through what was left of his clothing. It seemed he only had two clean shirts left. The rest of his clothes were piled in the corner of the small cupboard, waiting to be washed.

Arthur sighed, closed the door and went looking for the phone book. He was just starting to get frustrated when Merlin walked through the front door. As usual, Merlin was alone and something like relief coursed through Arthur, though he did his best to ignore it. Arthur had noticed a rather pleasant lack of Will lately – in fact he'd not seen the git since the night he'd had the misfortune to meet him - and a small part of him wanted to know if Merlin had broken up with him. Except, it was really none of his business and he didn't care what Merlin's relationship status was. Really, he didn't. Shaking his head to clear it, Arthur called out to Merlin before he could disappear to his room.

"Oh, Merlin, good. Listen, is there a dry cleaner nearby that you usually go to, because I can't find the stupid phone book and I'm starting to run out of clean shirts?"

Merlin let out small scoff of laughter, his brows climbing up his face in obvious incredulity.

"Are you serious? A dry cleaners? For a few shirts?" He smiled wryly, "I'm afraid not. Us poor plebeians usually do our own washing. You know, in the washing machine?"

Arthur frowned.

"We have one of those?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, walked purposefully to the utility room and waved his arm in an overdramatic sweeping gesture, presenting the washing machine and tumble dryer within.

"Oh, right. I knew that."

"Of course you did," Merlin replied with a roll of his eyes. "Have you ever even _used_ a washing machine before?"

Arthur scoffed and sneered at him. "Honestly, any idiot could figure it out, _Mer_lin. I mean, if a prat like _you_ can do it, _I'll_ hardly have any problems."

"I'm sure," Merlin deadpanned. "Well, since you obviously don't need my help, I'll leave you to it."

With a cheeky smirk and a wink, Merlin sauntered up the stairs to his room. Arthur took a moment to glare after him before he turned back to the machine and gave it an assessing stare.

"I'll show that little tosspot," he muttered to himself as he stepped forward to look at the knobs. "It can't be that difficult."

After a few moments of tinkering, Arthur was fairly certain he'd worked out the functions of each knob. Hurrying over to his cupboard, he gathered an armful of washing and made his way back to the utility. He opened the door and shoved the clothes in, struggling as a pair of trousers did their best to escape. When he'd finally managed to close the little glass door of the machine, Arthur straightened and stared at it for a moment, considering his next step.

"Washing powder! Right, I need washing powder."

A quick search of the cupboard next to the machine provided him with detergent and a bottle of some sort of softener. He debated over the softener for a moment before deciding he quite liked his clothes to be soft and it wasn't at all unmanly. Plus, he liked the flower scent.

Another quick investigation of the washing machine produced a small compartment with three chambers. Arthur blinked at the little drawer, momentarily baffled. Why the bloody hell were there three chambers? He looked from the detergent in his left hand to the softener in his right to the machine and back. After a moment, Arthur shrugged. He could just fill the extra chamber with softener so his clothes were extra soft.

Arthur smiled to himself, pleased with his deduction, and proceeded to fill the little drawer. Once he'd pushed the compartment back into its slot, Arthur studied the dials. Deciding that heat equated cleanliness, he turned the temperature dial to ninety degrees and wrenched the second dial about until he heard the machine come to life. He watched for a few moments as water poured into the main chamber, a proud grin spreading over his face.

Giving a firm nod to the machine as if to say 'so there', Arthur headed back into the sitting room to continue his search through the _Times_ for possible jobs.

A half hour later, Merlin emerged from his room. Arthur watched from the corner of his eye, noting the look of mild surprise he gave the washing machine before he padded into the sitting room.

"I see you actually managed to get it started. I'm mildly impressed."

"Of course I did, _Mer_lin," Arthur boasted, "As I said before, any idiot can do the washing."

The buzzer sounded just as Merlin was opening his mouth to reply, signifying the end of Arthur's wash.

"Ah! That's my first batch done," he said, rising from the sofa with a smug grin and heading for the utility with Merlin close behind.

"Now," Arthur began as he swung open the tiny glass portal and revealed... "What the bloody hell?"

Merlin let out a rather girlish giggle behind him as Arthur pulled out his favourite white Gucci shirt. Or what used to be his favourite white Gucci shirt. The once-pristine white linen was now mottled with varying hues of pink. It looked like the machine and his clothes had gone to war and the clothes had lost a bitter and bloody battle.

"It's...pink!" Arthur exclaimed in shocked horror as Merlin's giggles increased.

"Looks like you aren't just _any_ idiot," Merlin answered.

Arthur turned and fixed him with his deadliest glare, humiliation and frustration welling up within him.

"Shut up, Merlin," he shot back, turning to frown at the machine. "I don't understand what happened. I was sure I did it right."

Finally, Merlin's giggles died down and he seemed to take pity on Arthur. Arthur let him pass, watching closely as he bent down to gather the rest of Arthur's ruined clothing. If his eyes lingered a little too long, it was only because he was so worried about the condition of his designer labels. Speaking of labels, there was one on Merlin's jeans, just above his arse...

"...the problem."

Arthur's eyes snapped to Merlin's face as he finally tuned in, only catching the last few words. Bloody hell, he had just checked out Merlin's arse! Doing his best not to let on, he blinked innocently and said, "Sorry, what?"

Merlin gave him an odd look, but seemed to let it go in the next moment.

"I said, I found the problem," he repeated, holding up a miniature version of what used to be Arthur's three hundred pound red Burberry cashmere jumper. Arthur made a small sound of grief for the loss of such a beloved piece of his wardrobe.

"What did you do, just throw the whole lot in without bothering to check the clothes?"

"Maybe," Arthur answered, sulking as Merlin rolled his eyes at him. "What bloody difference does it make?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Merlin asked, pointedly waving the tiny jumper at Arthur. "You have to separate your clothes into colours and whites as well as sort out the delicates and things that absolutely should _never_ be washed."

Once again, he gesticulated with the shrunken material and Arthur snatched it from him with an indignant noise.

"Well, that's just ridiculous," he declared petulantly.

"Oh yes, sorting your washing so's not to ruin it is a silly idea," Merlin mocked lightly as he began sorting through the ruined clothing. "Look, I'm sure there are a few salvageable bits in this lot and isn't pink supposed to be 'in' this season, or something?"

"I hardly think they're going for the 'recently involved in a grisly murder' look, Merlin" Arthur countered, waving his splotchy shirt for emphasis.

Merlin visibly tried to fight back a smile and failed miserably.

"Well, at least they smell nice."

Arthur levelled him with another glare that only served to make Merlin smile wider.

"All right, look, let me see what I can with this lot and I'll help you with the next, okay?" he offered, his blue eyes still dancing with amusement.

Arthur debated shoving the offer back in his face, but in the end decided that he really _could_ use the help, even if he'd never say so in so many words.

"I suppose you could. If you want to," he answered casually.

Merlin just rolled his eyes at him and went to the cupboard, beckoning Arthur to follow. He showed Arthur how to sort the colours and whites as well as check any and all pockets for any loose debris. Next, he sorted the piles into delicates and explained about the different temperature settings, snapping at Arthur when his attention wavered from Merlin's lecture to the precise way his delicate hands handled Arthur's clothes as he worked.

"Then you add the washing powder and softener and set it for the appropriate amount of time," Merlin said as he demonstrated. The washing machine started up again and he turned to give Arthur a pleasant smile.

"You're quite good at that, Merlin," Arthur said, returning the smile. "It's nice to know you've a talent for _something_."

"And of course you had to ruin it by being a prat."

"No, honestly, you're so good at it, I think you should just do the rest of it for me," Arthur insisted, waving his arm imperiously at the barely dented mountain of clothing still sitting at the bottom of the cupboard.

"Not a chance in hell, clotpole," Merlin said with a snort of laughter.

Arthur took a second to feign irritation before he cracked a smile and let out a chuckle of his own. They shared a moment of easy companionship before Arthur sobered and cleared his throat.

"Listen, I, uh," he began hesitantly. "I wanted to apologise if I scared your boyfriend off or something. I know I said I don't like him, and I don't, but I didn't mean to make him feel like he couldn't come here or anything."

Merlin's brow furrowed, his nose wrinkling adorably in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Will? I haven't seen him around much since we first met and I was worried I'd made him feel unwelcome," Arthur shifted uncomfortably beneath Merlin's stare.

"I wonder what could possibly have given him that impression?" he mused, raising a brow. Arthur's lips pursed into a small pout, but he said nothing. "Anyway, it has nothing to do with you. We only see each other occasionally. Will's just a friend."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. "A friend? But I thought...aren't you two shagging?"

Merlin smiled and shrugged. "We do sometimes. When neither of us is attached and we feel like having casual sex, but it's just that. Casual."

Arthur simply stared, completely taken aback. It had never occurred to him that Merlin would be the kind of bloke to have a casual shagging relationship, though God only knew what had put that thought into his head. It wasn't as if Arthur had actively spent time contemplating Merlin's relationship status or shaggability. Certainly not. Nor did he have any idea why he had the sudden urge to grin like a loon.

"Haven't you ever heard the term 'fuck buddies'?"

"Of course I have," Arthur replied, "I just didn't think...it doesn't matter. So long as he's not staying away because of me. I'd hate to cut into your shag time."

"Since when are you worried about my shag time?" Merlin asked with an impish smirk.

Arthur scoffed. "I'm not; I was just trying to be considerate."

"A nice change of pace for you," he teased.

"Oh, ha bloody ha," Arthur drawled with an unimpressed look. He smiled a moment later, showing Merlin that he wasn't really bothered by his comment and another pleasant silence fell. Arthur could almost feel something shift between them in that moment and his heart felt a bit lighter.

Merlin shifted a bit and bit his lip, looking down at the pile of ruined washing still sitting on the counter. If Arthur didn't know any better, he might have said Merlin was blushing.

"Right, so, I'll just see what I can do with these, shall I?" Merlin said, as he gathered the clothes. "Let me know when that wash is over and I'll show you how to hang them properly."

With one last quick glance, Merlin turned and headed up the stairs to his room. Arthur watched with bemusement as the door shut behind him. He wasn't sure what was going on between them, but at least they seemed to be getting on now. The thought made Arthur smile wider as he headed back into the sitting room to wait for his washing to finish.

xXx

"_Fuck_!" Arthur growled as he stormed into the house. He shut the door rather than slamming it like he wanted to. To make up for the lack of violence inflicted on the door, he vented his frustration by stripping off the jacket of his suit, balling it up with his fists and throwing it at the sofa. Then he lifted it and did it a few more times before giving up and finally collapsing onto the seat next to it. Arthur put his head in his hands and sank his fingers into his hair, tugging lightly. "Goddamn it."

"Hey, Arthur I was just..." Merlin's voice stopped and Arthur felt the cushion beside him depress. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is I'm going to live in a cardboard box!" Arthur replied dramatically, tugging at his hair again.

"O-o-kay," Merlin replied, his voice laden with confusion. "Were you planning on doing this anytime soon, because I know a bloke who can get you a deal on some nice ones? Deep. Plenty of space."

Arthur wrenched his head out of his hands, making his hair stand every which way, and levelled a glare at him. "You're not funny, Merlin."

"Now that's just mean. Plenty of people think I'm funny," he joked. "And anyway, I doubt Morgana would let you live in a box."

"She'll have to if I can't do something about my lack of income! The company turned me down. Another one! At this rate I'll never get a job. I'm either too bloody qualified – how the fuck can someone be _too_ qualified, anyway, that makes no fucking sense – or they turn me away because of my father!"

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, dishevelling it even further. Not that he cared at that point. He'd been so frustrated lately it was lucky he had any left to pull at all. "I hate this," he breathed, his voice melancholic and full of self-loathing. "I hate not having something to get up for every morning. I miss being a productive member of society."

A moment later, Arthur felt a tentative hand on his back. He started a bit, but didn't move away. The touch was comforting and he actually found himself leaning into it a bit.

"I know it's hard, but it _will_ get better," Merlin said gently. "You've got a brilliant employment record and despite being a prat, you're a good guy. Something will turn up."

"Thanks," Arthur muttered, completely unconvinced, but glad for the sentiment anyway.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Merlin straightened suddenly.

"Hey, what about Albion?"

Arthur's brow furrowed. "The coffee shop?"

"Yeah. One of our full-timers, Bors, just left to backpack on the Continent for a year and we'll be looking for a replacement anyway."

"I don't know," Arthur said hesitantly.

"Well, it's a job, right? Gaius is a brilliant owner and I'm sure that you'll get on famously with the manager."

"Merlin, _you're_ the manager," Arthur said with an arched brow.

"Exactly," he replied with a smirk. "We get on and I know I can deal with you if you start acting like a spoilt arse."

Arthur pouted a frown at him, but didn't contradict him. He knew he could be difficult at times. Pursing his lips, he thought about Merlin's offer. It was a huge step down from being the future Managing Director of a major media corporation, but then, so was just about every job he'd applied for since he'd left his father's side. At least it would be money in his pocket and he'd have the added benefit of already knowing someone there. For reasons Arthur refused to analyse too closely, the thought of working with Merlin was what had him agreeing.

"Do you really think that would be all right?"

Merlin smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Sure. I mean, you'll have to meet with Gaius before you can officially be hired, but otherwise I don't see any problem with it."

Arthur felt a wave of gratitude and for the first time that day, he smiled. "All right. I'll give it a go."

Before he could say anything more, Mordred slunk into the room wearing a familiar-looking red bodysuit. Arthur stared, his jaw dropping in surprise.

"Oi! Is that my bloody jumper?" he asked incredulously.

Merlin shifted away, removing the hand that Arthur hadn't realised was still on his back until then. It left a cold spot in the shape of Merlin's palm that Arthur did his best to ignore. "I don't know what you mean."

"My Burberry designer sweater is on Satan's pussycat and you don't know what I mean?" he cried, flailing a hand at Mordred who sat a few feet away levelling him with his usual death glare.

"Stop calling him that," Merlin chided with a tsk, beckoning to the thing. Mordred sauntered over and jumped up to curl into Merlin's lap, never taking his eyes off of Arthur. "Besides, it's not as if you were ever going to wear it again anyway."

"That's hardly the point, Merlin. It's a matter of principle. You do not give my things to a minion of the underworld," he pouted, glaring at the cat. He could swear the little fucker was smirking at him.

"You really should learn to get along with him. Ah, see, he's purring, he likes you."

What Merlin called a 'purr' sounded more like a death rattle, but Arthur kept that opinion to himself, opting to mutter under his breath instead. After a moment of sulking (and a staring contest with the cat – which he, of course, lost), Arthur spoke again.

"So when do you think I can meet with Gaius?"

"I'll give him a ring now," Merlin answered, retrieving his phone and dislodging the cat in the process. "He's usually about in the afternoons."

Arthur listened while Merlin chatted animatedly with the owner of the coffee shop and less than an hour later, they were on their way to meet with the man who would – hopefully – become Arthur's new boss.

xXx

The meeting went off without a hitch. Gaius was an elderly gentleman with a stern countenance and a kind heart. There was no doubt that should Arthur screw up, he'd hear about it, but it was clear that Gaius was the type to give praise where praise was due and he seemed to inspire loyalty from the start. Or maybe that was Arthur simply projecting his own gratitude onto the situation. Gaius had asked a few questions about Arthur's work history and experience before informing him that, while the job wasn't nearly as glamorous as what he'd been accustomed to, he was more than welcome to the position. Arthur had taken it without hesitation and with enough enthusiasm that it had made Gaius' eyebrow climb up his forehead and a smile tug at his lips.

Arthur hadn't even cared when Merlin had teased him for it on the way home. He had a job, he had his friends and he was no longer under his father's thumb. Things were definitely looking up.


	2. Part II

Arthur and Merlin were just finishing lunch when Morgana hurried into the kitchen looking harried, but impeccably fashionable as always.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry, I know I was supposed to do the shopping this week, but I just got a call from the office. There's been a huge fuck up and I have to go sort it out or we'll lose a really important client. I'd ask Gwen, but she's helping Lance at his shop until about nine and we're seriously low on milk." She spoke in a rush as she flitted about the kitchen making herself a cuppa.

Merlin sent her a smile and nodded. "Sure, no problem. Do you have a list?"

Morgana pulled a piece of paper out of her handbag and gave it to Merlin. Her eyes flicked to Arthur and her smile turned just a tad evil as she sipped at her tea. Or maybe it was simply Arthur's imagination.

"Maybe you could take Arthur with you?"

Arthur blinked and sat up a bit straighter. "Sorry, what?"

"Well, you've been here a good few weeks now. Don't you think it's time you learned the ropes?"

Arthur considered her words with a frown. Other than going on dozens of job interviews and the few meandering walks about the neighbourhood, he'd not really been out much. Not to mention that Morgana, Gwen and Merlin had been very good about letting him stay and other than rent that Morgana seemed determined to keep putting off taking, he hadn't really contributed much yet.

"All right. Sure. I suppose I do need to pick up some trousers for work, anyway," he conceded, darting a quick look at Merlin. "If Merlin doesn't mind me tagging along, of course."

Merlin shook his head. "I don't mind, but we should go soon before the evening rush hits."

"Brilliant. I'll see you both tonight, then. Have fun," Morgana said, her smirk widening as she set her empty mug in the sink and hurried out the front door. Arthur still couldn't figure out how she managed to walk so fast and still look graceful.

Shaking his head, Arthur rose and went to grab his jacket, trying not to think too hard about why Morgana had looked so very pleased with herself when she'd left. He shook his head to himself as he pulled it on, deciding it was better not to try and decipher the inner workings of his sister's twisted mind.

"Ready?" Merlin asked, tilting his head toward the door.

"After you," Arthur answered with a lofty sweep of his arm. Merlin snorted and shook his head, but led the way without further comment.

"Where are we going, then?" he asked once they had piled into Merlin's crap car and turned onto the main road.

"ASDA will sort us for the week," Merlin answered as he flicked on his right indicator, filling the car with a rather obnoxious clicking noise.

"Will there be shops nearby where I can pick up some trousers?"

"Oh, ASDA will have those, too."

Arthur's brows rose. "You want me to buy my trousers at a _supermarket_? _Seriously_? I've spent my whole life buying Armani, Gucci and Prada and now I'm supposed to get my trousers in a place that sells cheap veg?"

"Designer labels are a thing of the past for you. At least for now. Besides, ASDA sell a lot more than cheap veg; they have pretty much everything. Food, clothes, electronics. It's the common man's best friend," Merlin said with a wink as he turned into a large car park.

Arthur did his best not to pout at the reminder of his new financial status. There were things he was going to miss, but he had to keep reminding himself that it was for the best. That he was his own man now and that was far more important than buying designer clothing. He ducked his head a bit as they slowly drew closer to the massive store, inspecting the neon green letters spelling out ASDA before he took in the rest of his surroundings.

"Fucking hell, look at all the cars!" Arthur exclaimed. Two thirds of the car park was filled and there was a constant stream of people coming and going, most of them with entire trolleys filled to the brim with bags of shopping. He even spotted a few people with more than one overflowing trolley.

"Yeah. You should see it when it gets _really_ busy," Merlin commented, letting out a little sound of triumph as he pulled the car into an empty slot about halfway to the entrance.

"You mean _this_ isn't really busy?" Arthur asked incredulously as he watched a man wrestle two huge trolleys into the car park, one in front and one behind.

"This is almost tame compared to the Saturday evening rush. You couldn't pay me enough to shop here then," he answered as they got out of the battered car. "Just try to stick with me and not to get lost."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sneered lightly. "I'm not a child, Merlin. I'll be fine."

The second they stepped through the sliding doors of the store, Arthur stopped and his jaw dropped.

"Bloody hell," he breathed as his brain tried to process the flurry of information and products being virtually thrown at him. Flowers, cola and baby nappies all with signs cheerfully proclaiming that they were 'on sale today'! Movies and music and even some early Halloween decorations were perched enticingly in cardboard stands and along the first aisle. The sheer amount of _stuff_ on display was staggering and he was only in the bloody entryway.

"Come on, Arthur," Merlin said, pulling his arm as he sent the people behind them an apologetic glance. "Rule one of ASDA; always keep moving."

Arthur soon found it was a very good rule indeed. Any time he stopped to look at something, he was inevitably bumped into by someone behind him. It was chaos controlled. People hurried about, eyeing one another warily as they ducked and weaved with their trolleys, questing for the best deals.

"We'll get your trousers first and then do the food shop," Merlin said, navigating the throng with practiced ease. Arthur hurried to keep up with his determined stride without disturbing too many of the other avid shoppers.

Halfway to the clothing section, Arthur found himself distracted by a media display filled with movies for ten pounds and under. He made a small noise of disbelief when he saw _Zombieland_ on sale for only five pounds. His hand shot out, snatching the DVD proprietarily before he'd even thought about it. It was such a good deal and he'd beaten everyone else to it! Suddenly, the other customers' odd behaviour seemed to make sense. ASDA was about getting the best deals you could before someone else did. Survival of the fittest. Arthur's eyes scanned over the other DVDs, eagerly searching lest he miss another ridiculously cheap movie. Just as his hand reached out and snagged a five pound copy of _District 9_, Merlin's voice startled him out of his ASDA-induced trance.

"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?" There was an almost frantic note to his voice.

Arthur turned and excitedly held up his finds.

"Look, Merlin! They're only five pounds, can you believe that? Five pounds! I'm having them," he announced, weaving his way through the crowd to drop his items into the trolley. He looked up to see Merlin frowning at him with a hint of worry in his eyes; his heart gave a curious thump.

"We're not here for DVDs, Arthur. We have a list," Merlin snapped irritably, waving the paper Morgana had given him. "Give me your number just in case I lose you again."

Arthur arched a brow, but said nothing as he exchanged phone numbers with Merlin.

"Right. Good. Now come on. And try not to get distracted by the price signs. You shouldn't be spending your money so frivolously, anyway."

"But it's only ten pounds! For two brilliant DVDs," Arthur insisted, still not quite able to believe his luck; both in finding the DVDs and managing to get Merlin's number in his phonebook.

"That's how they get you, you know. With the low prices and strategically placed sales. If you don't come in with a plan," Merlin waved the list again, "you'll end up leaving having spent far more than you'd originally intended."

"Fine, I won't get distracted again. We'll stick to your plan, but I'm having the DVDs."

"Fair enough. Now, come on. If we don't hurry, we'll get stuck here for ASDA rush hour."

Arthur got distracted twice more before they managed to kit him out with three new pairs of trousers ("Fifty pounds for the three, bloody hell, I've spent twice as much for a single pair! Brilliant!") until Merlin finally threatened to force him to hold the trolley handle like a naughty toddler. Arthur had pouted, but had done his best to rein in his excitement, though he still couldn't help himself commenting when he'd seen how cheap the fruit was ("All this for only a pound?"), and the conveniently pre-packaged dinners ("Enough food for two including sides and sauces for only a fiver?"). Some small part of Arthur registered that he was driving Merlin more than a little batty, but he couldn't help himself. He was lost to the power of bargain shopping.

Arthur was fighting the urge to let his eyes wander while he waited for Merlin to choose between two different types of washing detergents when he heard the voice.

"_New from JML..."_

Arthur glanced around, searching for the source of the sound until he spotted a small telly mounted on a stand in the middle of the aisle. Completely forgetting his promise to stay by Merlin's side, Arthur drifted over as the energetic man continued to speak.

"_You want to keep warm when you're feeling chilled, but you don't want to raise your heating bill..."_

"That's true," Arthur muttered, watching the woman on screen fiddle with a thermostat.

"_...blankets are okay, but they can slip and slide..."_

He watched in sympathy as the woman struggled with her traitorous blanket, her face a mask of frustration. "Yeah, I hate it when that happens."

"_...now, there's Snuggie from JML! The blanket that has sleeves!"_

"That's bloody brilliant!" Arthur said excitedly as he watched the woman don a long red Snuggie, an enthusiastic grin on her face.

"Arthur, what are you..."

"Shhh!" Arthur shushed him, watching the infomercial intently, barely registering Merlin's sigh and mutter of, "Bloody hell, what now?".

"_...keeps you totally warm and gives you the freedom to use your hands!"_

"Arthur."

"_...super large, one size fits all!"_

"I have to have that!" Arthur said with a decisive nod.

"Didn't we already talk about you spending money frivolously?" Merlin asked with a frown.

"It's not frivolous!" he countered, picking up a Snuggie package and clutching it to his chest. "It'll save on heating!"

"We aren't even using the heating yet and we already have blankets."

"But not blankets with _sleeves_," Arthur countered, grinning at Merlin's exasperated, yet fond expression.

"_...now you can use the remote..."_

"See," he piped up, pointing to the tiny telly. "You can use the remote! I love using the remote, Merlin, and blankets make it so hard to do without getting cold."

"It just looks like a regular dressing gown," Merlin pointed out with a smile. "You already have one of those, why don't you just wear that backwards and save the money?"

"_...keep your pets close at hand..."_

"Let me guess, you're going to wax poetic about the Snuggie making it easy to cuddle Mordred?" Merlin asked in amusement before Arthur could interject with another virtue of the Snuggie.

Arthur grimaced. "Ew, no. Not even the awesomeness of a Snuggie could make me cuddle the demon cat. _But_ it's machine washable! Which I now know how to use."

"Thanks to me," Merlin added, with an arched brow. "And didn't you still manage to shrink another jumper yesterday?"

"That's beside the point," Arthur said with a negligent wave of his hand as he perused the different coloured Snuggies. "Oh, look they have double packs! One for me and one for you!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, shook his head with a smile and sighed, clearly seeing that he'd lost the battle. "Fine. All right, put it in the trolley and let's go."

Arthur grinned triumphantly and set his prize atop the rest of the shopping.

"You can have the blue one," he said magnanimously as they headed for the check out, "it'll look nice on you."

xXx

Arthur stared incredulously at the offensive orange cloth in his hand.

"Do I _really_ have to wear this?" Arthur pouted, hoping that he could somehow persuade Merlin to bend the rules for him.

"Yes, you do if you want this job. It's part of the uniform," Merlin replied with a matter-of-fact grin.

"It's the colour of a bloody road works sign."

"Gaius wants us to stand out."

"Well, we certainly will do decked out in these monstrosities," he muttered. "I wonder if I could get in touch with my old contact at Armani. They could come out with a new apron line in a colour that _doesn't _make my eyes feel like they're going to bleed."

"I know they aren't great, but it's a job, right? You agreed to give this a shot. So what's it going to be?"

Arthur looked from Merlin's expectant face, to the apron and back again. With a heavy, put-upon sigh and a visible pout, he reluctantly unfolded the material and slid the strap over his head.

"Good man," Merlin said with a smile.

Arthur stiffened, his heart skipping a beat as Merlin suddenly stepped forward and lifted his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Relax, your _highness_," he answered with a roll of his eyes. He was close enough that every word sent a puff of breath ghosting across Arthur's lips. Arthur forced himself not to shiver. "I'm just straightening your collar around the apron. There. Let's get to it, then."

With that, he turned and headed for the front of the shop. Biting back a groan and a growing feeling of trepidation, Arthur followed.

xXx

"I can't believe how long this is taking!"

Arthur gritted his teeth as the woman he was serving shrieked at him.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am," he answered, doing his best not to lose his temper as he tried to work the espresso machine.

"What are you? Some kind of incompetent?"

"No, ma'am," Arthur ground out as the espresso machine proceeded to spit half-ground beans at him, "It's my first day and there seems to be something wrong with the machine. If you'll just give me a moment..."

"For god's sake, it's only an espresso. How hard is it to make a tiny little coffee?"

That was the final straw.

"If you think it's so easy why don't you get back here and make it? That is, if you can manage to fit behind the counter!"

"Why, I never! How dare you? I want to speak with your manager!"

"Arthur what is going on over here?" Merlin asked with a frown as he hurried over.

"The goddamn espresso machine is jammed and out to murder me with projectile beans and this stupid bint won't stop shrieking at me!"

"'Stupid bint?'" The woman gasped, her face turning beet-red with indignation, "I'm sure I have more of an education than the likes of you! Why, I can guarantee you I make more in a week than you do in an entire month!"

"Do you even know who I am? I could have you deported! You _and_ those plastic beads you have the audacity to try and flaunt as pearls!"

"All right, that's it! Tristan!" Merlin's hand landed firmly on Arthur's shoulder, squeezing surprisingly hard as he pulled him from the counter, "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience madam, Tristan will finish your order and please don't worry about paying. It's on the house."

"Well, I should certainly hope so," sniffed the woman as she stared down her nose at the whole lot of them.

"Again, I'm very sorry," Merlin said with a charming smile before turning to Arthur and glaring. "You. Go. Now."

With that, Merlin practically frog-marched Arthur to the back room and shoved him in, shutting the door behind him. Arthur fought the urge to flinch as Merlin whirled around, crossed his arms and sent him a withering look.

"Arthur, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey, she started it!" he replied petulantly.

"What are you, six? I don't care who 'started it'! She's a customer! You can't speak to customers like that!"

"I can speak to people however I damn well please! I'm Arthur Pendragon for fuck's sake."

"Not any more, you aren't!" Merlin snapped, looking instantly contrite a moment later. Arthur's head jerked back as though he'd be slapped. "Arthur, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant..."

"No, I get it. You're right. I'm not that guy anymore," Arthur said quietly, a pang of sadness rising up in his chest. He moved to sit heavily on an unopened box of coffee, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I don't even know who I am."

"You're still you," Merlin insisted. "You're just finding a different side of yourself, that's all. Not better or worse, just different."

Merlin nudged Arthur with his foot. "Though, I do have to say I prefer the side of you that _isn't_ an arrogant prat."

The words were said with a smile and Arthur let out a small huff of laughter as the tightness in his chest loosened a little. "Yes, well, you can't pick and choose. You have to love all of me or none at all."

"Who said anything about love? I barely even like you, you git," Merlin said, wrinkling his nose.

Arthur feigned offence and aimed a half-hearted kick at his shin. "Tosser."

"What a fine way to talk to your boss," he replied. Merlin sobered a bit. "Look, most of the people who come here are great, but you'll learn quite quickly that some customers are arseholes no matter what. You have to learn to let it roll off your shoulders and not let what they say get to you."

"So I should just let them treat me like rubbish?"

"Not exactly. I mean, there are lines that can be crossed and if they are, you're more than welcome to kick them out. In fact, in some cases, it'd be encouraged. But those occasions are few and far between. For the most part, you just have to smile, keep calm and carry on. Can you do that?"

Arthur sighed heavily. "Yeah, all right."

"Brilliant. Now come on, _sire_, your coffee kingdom awaits," Merlin said with a smirk and a tiny half-bow.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but rose, took a deep breath, and went back to work with a small smile on his face.

xXx

"Bugger."

Arthur looked up and arched a brow at Merlin from his place behind the counter.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his eyes flicking between where Merlin sat and the espresso machine he was cleaning; the same one that had tried to kill him a few weeks before. He'd finally learned to tame the beast. It was just him and Merlin in the shop closing up, something that Arthur was finally beginning to admit – at least to himself – he quite enjoyed.

"Our sales are down again from last month. It's that new goddamned Starbuck's chain a few blocks away. It's taking a huge chunk of our business. We still have our regulars, of course, but Mrs Thomas is hardly going to keep us in business. If this keeps up, we're not going to be able to cover costs."

Arthur's heart gave a lurch as he saw the disappointment and worry etched on Merlin's face. He knew how much Albion meant to Merlin. Leaving off cleaning, he walked around the counter and moved to hover over Merlin's shoulder, frowning down thoughtfully at the spreadsheet in front of him. He'd commented before on Albion's use of traditional materials, but Merlin had simply said that Gaius preferred hard copies rather than relying on 'dodgy technology'. Regardless of how they were kept, though, the books didn't lie.

"What about an overhaul? We can redesign the shop and give it a new lease on life. We could even base new promotions around it. Come up with a few new drinks. What do you think?"

Merlin's gaze turned thoughtful. "Do you really think that could help?"

"It works all the time in retail and media. People make millions off repackaging a product and selling it as something new. Which is more or less what we'll be doing, but rather than offering them something under the guise of it being new and different, we'll offer them an updated and improved version of the original," Arthur explained, excitement sparking in him as he pulled up the chair next to Merlin and began to sketch a design on a blank page. "Sometimes all people need is a reminder of how good something is. A re-launch of the cafe will give them just that."

"But won't a re-launch cost us money?"

"Sometimes you have to spend money to make money, Merlin. It's a risk, but if it pays off, it could save Albion."

A slow smile worked its way over Merlin's face as he watched Arthur speak, his eyes flicking occasionally to the sketch that he was working on. The look of approval and admiration in his gaze had Arthur's heart beating double time and made him even more determined to find a way to save the cafe.

That night, they stayed at Albion far past its usual closing time. They spent hours discussing and plotting different designs and marketing schemes, their legs bumping companionably beneath the table as they worked. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd been so content.

xXx

Three weeks later, Albion hosted their re-launch. The newly designed shop doors were swinging off their hinges with use and they could barely keep up with demand. The business kept Merlin, Arthur and Tristan all hopping and Arthur felt as though he'd never worked so hard in his life. It was gruelling, utterly exhausting, and quite possibly one of the most satisfying experiences of Arthur's life. Knowing that he'd had a part in the tiny shop's success was a thrilling notion and it made Arthur feel as though he'd finally got something right.

"Bloody hell." Merlin sighed, leaning against the counter as the shop hit a rare quiet patch.

"Buck up, Merlin, we've another rush due to start in about fifteen minutes if the last week is anything to go by," Arthur said, nudging Merlin with his hip.

Merlin met Arthur's smile with one of his own. "You should be pleased with yourself. You've done really well."

Arthur fought the sudden urge to blush under Merlin's praise and began refilling the takeaway cups to distract himself. "It was nothing."

"Are you kidding? Because of you, Albion is busier than it has been in over a year! It was a brilliant plan."

Arthur's fight not to blush was rapidly becoming a losing battle, as was the struggle to keep himself from doing something highly inappropriate. Like kissing Merlin. Scrambling for some sort of defence against his sudden urge, Arthur fell back on good old fashioned snobbery. Sending Merlin a haughty look, he puffed out his chest and slid his hands over his attractive new burgundy apron. "Yes, well, what can I say? I am a brilliant man."

Merlin rolled his eyes and scoffed, nudging Arthur. "A brilliant arse is more like it."

Arthur gasped dramatically, feigning offence. "Oi! That's enough cheek from you," he declared, pulling his cleaning cloth out of his apron pocket and whipping Merlin's arse with it.

Merlin's jaw dropped and he let out what Arthur considered to be a very satisfying squeak of protest. Narrowing his eyes, Merlin whipped out his own cloth and positioned himself in a ninja stance before lashing out at Arthur with a smirk.

"En guard!"

Arthur snorted. "This is hardly a duel to the death, Merlin." His opinion was quickly revised as Merlin's rolled up towel smacked him sharply on the hip, stinging through his trousers.

"Oh, it's on."

They spent the next few minutes dodging, weaving and striking at each other, laughing like school children. Merlin was pulling ahead when Arthur decided to take matters into his own hands. Dropping his cloth, he lunged forward and wrapped his arm around Merlin's neck, pulling him into a headlock.

"Who's the master?" he asked teasingly, scrubbing his knuckles into Merlin's scalp when he refused to answer. Merlin squawked and squirmed, trying to escape. "Say it!"

"Piss off," Merlin managed between laughs. Before Arthur could administer his knuckles again, the door to the cafe opened.

Arthur looked up at the familiar tinkling of the bell, the friendly smile on his face fading as Vivian Turner sauntered into the coffee shop. She stopped just inside the door and arched a sculpted brow at the two of them, her lip curling in obvious disapproval for their childish behaviour.

"Vivian," he greeted, completely stunned. Though she'd called his mobile a fair few times since he'd left, this was the first time he'd seen her since their almost-wedding. He'd honestly never thought she'd lower herself to come to Albion. The coffee shop was well out of the way of her usual haunts and Arthur certainly never would have pictured her in such a humble establishment. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Arthur, darling!" Vivian drawled as she slid up to the counter, a pitying stare on her face. "I'd heard rumours, but I thought they were exaggerating. Oh,you poor thing! I can't believe you're wearing an apron! You must feel so very humiliated being reduced to this."

"What do you want, Vivian?" Arthur asked stiffly, his good mood completely shattered as he was filled with tension and something that felt an awful lot like shame.

"I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would stop by and talk some sense into you," she said easily, ignoring Arthur's scoff of disbelief. "Listen, pet, I know you're upset with your father, but really, must you punish yourself and me too?" She looked up from beneath her lashes, her face a mask of disappointment. "Uther wasn't the only one who wanted us to be married. I know that you don't feel as I do, but I had hoped that in time, you'd grow to love me."

"Vivian, come on. Neither of us was happy in that relationship and you know it," Arthur protested, his gut twisting with a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

"I miss you," Vivian said, her eyes filling with tears in an all-too-familiar way. It was the sight of those tears that had Arthur's guilt subsiding. He'd seen her use that exact tactic with her father any time she demanded something and didn't immediately get her way.

"You miss my money, you mean," he replied with an arched brow. Vivian's tears dried up immediately as she seemed to realise that they weren't going to get her anywhere.

"Come now, lover, don't be like that. We always had fun, didn't we? Surely being married to me is preferable to working in a pathetic little coffee stand with these urchins." Vivian spared a moment to sneer at Merlin and Arthur felt his hackles rise. "People like us, we aren't made for this kind of thing. You and I are meant for more. We're better than this."

"I already told you; I don't love you," he bit out through gritted teeth.

"Please, Arthur, no one in our station marries for love," Vivian scoffed, patting Arthur's hand as if she were placating a child. "It's impractical. But I'm sure you could grow to love me, if you tried. We were the most glamorous couple in all of England and we could be again. I'm willing to forgive you for walking out on me. Just imagine how the media will react when we reconcile; 'The Prince and Princess of Corporate London, Together Again'."

"That's hardly a reason to get married. I already told you 'no', Viv. That's not going to change. And I'd much rather spend mytime with these so-called 'urchins' than be subjected to being with a vapid and shallow woman like you day in and day out."

"Arthur..."

"Is there a problem here?" Merlin asked, finally stepping in. Arthur gave a barely perceptible sigh of relief and unconsciously leaned into him.

"No, not at all," Vivian drawled with what had to be the fakest smile he'd ever seen her give someone. He could practically see the daggers in her eyes as she watched Merlin turn to Arthur.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked softly, clearly noting Vivian's thinly-veiled claws.

"Everything's fine, Merlin," Arthur answered, sending him a rueful smile. "Vivian was just leaving."

"We aren't finished yet," Vivian protested, her eyes flashing with warning.

Merlin stepped forward with a broad grin that had warmth curling in the pit of Arthur's stomach.

"I'm sorry, but if you aren't going to order anything, I'm afraid you'll have to leave. There's a queue forming," he said, gesturing to the elderly Mrs Thomas standing behind Vivian, waiting patiently. Arthur held back a chuckle. Mrs Thomas would spend at least fifteen minutes chatting to him and Merlin before ordering and another fifteen after she'd received her coffee (black with two sugars, please). She was never in a rush, but Vivian didn't know that.

"As if I'd ever order anything from this cesspit," Vivian scoffed as she sent Merlin her most deadly glower. She shifted beneath Merlin's expectant gaze for a few moments before her expression soured even more – a feat Arthur hadn't thought possible – and she huffed in irritation. "Fine. This isn't over, Arthur."

"Have a lovely day," Merlin replied, somehow managing to make the words sound something more akin to 'I hope the door hits you on the arse on your way out you vicious little trollop'.

With one last sniff of derision, Vivian swept from Albion and Arthur finally let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, most of his tension leaving with it.

"Sorry about the wait, Mrs Thomas,"Arthur said with an apologetic smile as he began to make her usual order.

"Oh, don't you mind me, Arthur, love," she answered, leaning forward with a fond smile to pat his hand. "You just keep your eye out for that gold-digging hussy. Looks like a right snake if you don't mind me saying so."

Arthur let out a short burst of laughter. "I'll do that, Mrs Thomas."

"Hey, Tristan," Merlin called, his eyes meeting Arthur's after he ruined his second attempt at the drink, "Take over for a minute, would you?"

Tristan nodded and set about making Mrs Thomas' coffee with a smile and efficient hands. Merlin's deft hands plucked the ruined coffee from Arthur, slipped a hand into his and pulled him into the back room.

"Are you all right?"

Arthur let out gusty sigh and ran his hand through his hair – a gesture, he thought suddenly, that he'd picked up from Merlin. The notion had the corners of his lips tugging into a ghost of a smile as he moved to sit on a large pallet of coffee beans.

"I'm fine."

Merlin sent him a look that said he didn't believe that for a second, but didn't bother to contradict him with words. After a few moments, Merlin moved to sit beside him on the pallet, his body a welcome line of warmth along Arthur's left side. The contact served to both calm him, and make his heart pound just a bit harder than usual. As he always did, Arthur did his best to ignore the latter and concentrated on the safe feeling that Merlin somehow provided.

"She's wrong, you know," Merlin said, gently breaking the silence.

Arthur sent him a half smile. "Thanks. I know it's stupid to let her bother me, but..."

"She reminds you of what you left behind," Merlin finished for him. Arthur felt a lump form in his throat at the quiet understanding he saw in Merlin's eyes.

"Yeah," he said simply. His thoughts were so chaotic - jumping from Vivian, to his father, to the warmth of Merlin pressed against him – that Arthur wasn't sure he could say much more than that. It was a good thing Merlin never needed or demanded explanations. He just always seemed to _know_.

"It's hard to leave what you've always known. To try and figure out who you are outside of the shadow of your parents and their expectations. But you've done brilliantly, Arthur."

Arthur's breath hitched slightly when Merlin laid a hand on his thigh. His eyes flicked up to meet intense blue eyes, shadowed by the dim light of the storage room.

"Not many people could have had the guts to leave the life you had and stand on their own two feet. You should be proud of yourself. I know I am," he said with a soft smile.

Arthur's heart swelled in his chest and he found himself leaning forward until his lips were a scant inch from Merlin's. His breath hitched slightly as Merlin's breath ghosted across his lips, warm and inviting. Before he could close the distance, Tristan stuck his head inside the door with an apologetic smile, making Arthur pull back as though he'd been burnt.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we're getting busy again and I could really use a hand out here."

He popped back out as suddenly as he'd appeared and Arthur's breath escaped in a long sigh, leaving him feeling a bit deflated. His heart beat furiously as his gaze flicked to Merlin and away again, his cheeks heating with embarrassment.

"I.."

"Well," Merlin said at the same time. They both let out an awkward chuckle. "We should go help him."

"Right. Of course," Arthur said, rising and sweeping his arm dramatically before him. "After you, oh great and noble bossman."

The tension in Merlin's shoulders seemed to ease a bit at the familiarity of Arthur's teasing and he sent him a smirk. "Oh no, after you, your royal pratness. I insist."

Arthur let out an amused chuckle and nodded before sauntering out of the storage room, all thoughts of Vivian and his father purged from his mind, if only for that moment.

xXx

In the week following their near-kiss, neither Arthur nor Merlin mentioned it and Arthur was beginning to wonder if he'd imagined the whole thing. The only thing keeping him from writing the whole event off was the way Merlin had begun looking at him. Whenever he thought Arthur wasn't looking, he'd get this speculative and almost hopeful look on his face. Of course any time Arthur worked up the courage to mention it to him, Merlin looked away and pretended that he was doing something else entirely. It was utterly maddening.

On top of that, Arthur was more aware of Merlin than ever. It was as if his body was wired to know where Merlin was in the house at any given time. When he walked into the room, Arthur would get pleasant little chills down his spine. Any time Merlin sat near him, Arthur was hard-pressed not to lean into the heat of his body. When he left the room, Arthur felt bereft. He'd tried hard to ignore his own reaction to the affable git until Morgana had told him that 'the longing looks they were giving each other made her want to gag and why don't you just shag already?' Even Gwen had been shooting him knowing looks whenever he looked her way. Apparently Arthur wasn't nearly as stealthy as he'd imagined.

Not that Arthur'd had much chance to contemplate this new awareness with the virtual assault Vivian had been waging on his mobile. In the days following her impromptu appearance at Albion, Vivian had taken to ringing, emailing and texting Arthur with a vengeance. Every few hours she would send a message saying how much she missed him, begging for another shot and even, on one occasion, threatening him if he went another hour without returning her calls. The only consolation Arthur had was the looks that Merlin shot the phone anytime it went off; deadly and almost proprietary, as if his glare alone would cease her incessant harassment.

Arthur was on the verge of changing his number altogether when the calls suddenly ceased. It took him nearly a full day to realise it, but once he did, he found himself watching his phone warily. Vivian was silent for four days straight and Arthur was beginning to feel more than a little paranoid about it. He knew she didn't give up easily and this apparent surrender of hers only made him wonder what sort of devious plot she was planning.

"Maybe she finally got the hint?" Merlin suggested, eyeing the phone in bemusement.

"Not bloody likely." Morgana snorted over her tea. "Vivian's gagging for the title and the money that marrying Arthur would afford her. Trust me, women like her don't give up so easily."

"You really think she'll be back?" Gwen asked, her face filled with concern.

"I hope not. She's undoing all my hard work with Arthur's aura," Lance said, squinting at the air around Arthur as though it was offensive to him. Arthur inched away, hoping to avoid another 'cleansing session' while he was trying to enjoy his tea.

"Trust me, she'll be back."

"I don't know, I mean, it _has_ been nearly a week," Arthur mused, hoping that maybe Merlin was right about her giving up. He didn't relish the thought of what she'd come at him with next.

As if to contradict him, his mobile began to ring. Sending Morgana's triumphant smirk a nasty glare, Arthur glanced down at the window. He blinked. The screen read 'Father – home'. His heart skipped a beat as he pressed the 'answer call' button.

"Hello?"

"I'd like to speak with you. Be at the house in an hour." Uther's voice was clipped and brooked no arguments. Before Arthur even had the chance to respond, the line went dead.

"Abrupt as ever," he muttered, looking up to find four curious gazes watching him.

"Well?" Morgana demanded. Trust her to ask the question they're no doubt all wondering, but wouldn't voice. "Who was it?"

"My father," Arthur answered quietly, sipping his cooling tea for fortification. "He wants me to meet him in an hour."

"Well that's good isn't it?" Gwen ventured. "Maybe he wants to make up? Ask you to forgive him?"

Morgana let out an unladylike snort. "Uther Pendragon? Ask for forgiveness? Not bloody likely."

Arthur frowned at her pessimism. Though he knew she had a point, a small part of him was desperately hoping that this might be the exception. Sure, he'd never actually heard his father apologise or give any indication that he'd been wrong about something, but perhaps he hadn't had the proper motivation? Maybe losing Arthur the way he had had spurred him into action? Arthur's mind whirled as he debated what he should do. If he went and his father simply gave him the same arguments and threats, Arthur wasn't sure he could handle it. Then again, if he didn't go, he might never get another chance to reconcile with his father. At the end of the day, despite everything, he loved Uther and he would do whatever it took to try and repair their relationship.

"Take my car."

Arthur looked up just in time to catch the set of keys that Merlin tossed at his head. Their eyes met and held, a moment of understanding passing between them. Once again Arthur blessed Merlin's uncanny ability to read his thoughts. Sending him a grateful smile, Arthur rose.

"Thanks," he said, staring for a moment longer.

"Oh for fuck's sake, are you going to go see what Uther wants or are you going to spend the rest of the evening making eyes at Merlin?"

Arthur chose to ignore Gwen's ill-disguised giggle – as well as the warm flush of his cheeks - and sent Morgana a withering glare before rising and rinsing his cup.

"Right. I'll be back in a bit."

With one last glance at Merlin, Arthur hurried out the door.

xXx

When Arthur finally pulled up to the estate at five to seven, he spent a few long moments simply looking up at the massive house. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of Merlin's beat up old Vauxhall and climbed the stairs.

Arthur paused at the doorway, suddenly at a loss as to what to do. He'd always simply walked in as if he owned the place, but he'd not set foot in this house for nearly three months and he felt uncomfortable just opening the door. Arthur stood before the gilded doors and realised for the first time that he felt more at home living with Morgana, Merlin and Gwen than he'd ever felt in the house he'd grown up in. It was at once disconcerting and yet, somehow comforting.

Finally, Arthur lifted the large brass door knocker and let it fall. Moments later, the butler answered the door. The slight twitch of his eyebrow was the only indication of his surprise at finding the master of the house's son knocking like a guest. His brow twitched again as he spotted Merlin's wreck of a car in the circular drive, framed by opulent topiaries.

"Hello, Geoffrey. You're looking well," Arthur said pleasantly, ignoring his slight embarrassment. Out of all the butlers Uther had gone through, Geoffrey had lasted the longest. His father had liked him for his professionalism; Arthur had liked him for his dry wit and willingness to overlook Arthur's adolescent foibles.

"Thank you, young master Pendragon. You, too, are looking well," he drawled. "Your father is expecting you in his study."

Arthur smiled wryly at the barely discernible sympathy in Geoffrey's face, patting him on the shoulder as he passed.

"Thanks, Geoff. You're a pal."

Geoffrey arched a brow that would have made Gaius proud and shut the doors as Arthur quickly headed for his father's study. His moment of hesitation on the front steps had made him late and Uther would surely point it out. All too soon he was lifting a hand to rap on Uther's door.

"Enter."

Arthur fixed a polite smile on his face which promptly disappeared when he opened the door. His father sat behind his gleaming mahogany desk wearing an expectant expression. Sitting on the other side of that desk was Vivian. Arthur froze just inside the door.

"Arthur, darling, it's so good to see you," Vivian simpered, rising from her plush chair and gliding over to Arthur's side. Arthur ducked away when her lips would have touched his. Ignoring the angry flash of Vivian's eyes, Arthur moved forward to stand before his father's desk.

"Father, what is this?"

"Have a seat, Arthur," Uther ordered, waiting for him to comply before he continued. "I understand Vivian has been trying rather unsuccessfully to reach you this past week. "

"The wonders of caller display," Arthur muttered.

Uther's eyes narrowed, but he let the comment go. "Obviously, when she failed to get you to respond, she came to me, hoping that I could bridge the gap."

It was a low blow; a dirty trick that he ought to have expected from her, but somehow hadn't. Arthur took a steadying breath. Regardless of Vivian's manipulation, he still held some glimmer of hope that this meeting might serve to reconcile them; that his father would see reason.

"I see," he replied through gritted teeth.

"It occurs to me that perhaps I have been too strict with you in this matter," Uther continued as if Arthur hadn't spoken. "That perhaps all you need is the right incentive to return to your rightful place and fulfil your duty."

Arthur's hands clenched in the buttery leather of the chair he sat in as he fought to hold his tongue.

"Therefore, if you are willing to reconsider this marriage, I will not only reinstate you your job and all the luxuries that it afforded you, but I will advance your position within the company and give you a substantial raise. That is in addition to the full expense of the wedding itself as well as an all expense-paid month-long honeymoon to wherever you choose and, of course, the lovely Vivian for your bride. I think that is more than an acceptable arrangement, wouldn't you agree?"

Uther sat back in his chair looking entirely pleased with himself. As if he'd finally solved the puzzle and he was sure that Arthur couldn't possibly refuse his offer. As if Arthur would set aside his life and chance at happiness for the sake of money and power. It was a crushing blow to realise that his father didn't know him at all. Any hope that Arthur may have held that Uther might have given up the notion that he could force him into marriage was lost in that moment, destroyed along with that part of him that so often longed his father's approval.

"No, I would not," Arthur said evenly despite the emotions that roiled within him. He watched as Uther's expression fell from satisfaction to disbelief and finally, anger.

"I do not believe you fully understand what is at stake here."

"And _I_ do not believe you have heard a word I've said to you. You've not even _attempted_ to understand my feelings on the matter," Arthur said, his voice rising with an edge of steel.

"Feelings have very little to do with it," Uther replied, matching Arthur's tone and posture.

"Feelings have _everything_ to do with it! The fact that you cannot, _will not_ recognise that saddens me, even if it doesn't surprise me."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I've not seen you for months and you've not once since I arrived asked me how I am or what I've accomplished!"

"I've already been informed of these so-called 'accomplishments'," Uther sneered. Arthur spared a glare for the smirking Vivian before turning back to his father with a sort of pleading look.

"Are you not the least bit proud of me?"

"Why should I be proud that you've lowered yourself to work in a dingy cafe like an uneducated simpleton? Why, when you've turned your back on me to wallow in the gutter of society? I'm ashamed of you."

Arthur jerked back as if he'd been slapped. He could almost feel the blood drain from his face as his last vestiges of hope trickled away, leaving a hollow ache in his chest.

"Now," Uther continued, taking advantage of the silence, "You will accept this offer and return to my side, to the world where you belong, or I shall leave you in the gutter with the rest of the rabble. Make your choice."

An image of Merlin flashed in his mind at the word 'rabble' and Arthur felt the feeling come rushing back to his body. The hollowness was filled and fortified by a strength he hadn't known he'd possessed.

"A choice between living with Vivian in wealth or with 'the rabble' in happiness? I choose the gutter," he said as he rose.

"Think about what you're doing," Uther warned. "There will be no more chances after this."

"You know, Father, you should take a moment to look past your own motivations and determination to get me to yield and ask yourself why Vivian is pushing so hard for a marriage she never wanted to begin with."

With that, Arthur turned and headed for the door.

"I'll give you a week to reconsider."

"I don't need a week. My answer hasn't changed and it isn't going to," he said, finality ringing in his words. "Goodbye, Father."

With that, he stormed from the study and down the corridor. He didn't get far before he heard the door open again and Vivian caught up to him, tugging on his arm.

"Arthur, wait! Please! Just _think_ about what you're doing! Think about what you're giving up," she begged, digging her nails in.

"There's nothing to think about. For fuck's sake, will you never give up?"

"We could have everything, Arthur. _Everything_!" She gave another vicious tug of his arm and Arthur stopped, turning just enough to meet her eyes.

"If you want everything, why don't you just marry my father? That would get you what you want much quicker and far more effectively than harassing me."

Arthur felt a sense of vindication when a calculating look crossed her face as she considered his words. Any lingering guilt he felt at having abandoned her at the altar fled as he extricated himself from her grasp and marched to the door.

The storm that had been building inside him since the moment he'd stepped into the office finally broke the second he slid behind the wheel of Merlin's car.

"Fuck!" Arthur shouted, pounding his fists violently into the wheel. He continued to vent his anger and hurt on the car, curses ringing loudly in the small enclosed space, but he could neither hear nor feel any of it past the echo of Uther's words.

_I'm ashamed of you_.

With one last final shout of frustration, Arthur started the engine and tore out of the driveway at a reckless speed, taking pleasure in the sound of screeching tires. He needed a drink.

xXx

Several hours later, Arthur stumbled out of the back of a taxi and onto Morgana's front step. Throwing a handful of random notes at the driver, he managed to stagger to the door and, after a rather long and fumbling search for his keys, let himself in.

After a gruesome battle with the lock (for some reason his hand had the hardest time getting the key to line up with the hole), the door gave way and Arthur tumbled into the living room. He'd had quite a few drinks - though not quite enough to drown out the pain of twenty-seven years of disapproval and rejection from his father - and the only thing he could think of now was _Merlin_. Merlin would make it better because he always did.

Arthur needed Merlin.

The words became a mantra in his head as Arthur zig zagged his way through the darkened sitting room. He made it to the hallway and promptly walked into the wall as he barely avoided treading on Mordred.

"Sorry, Satan," Arthur slurred in a loud, drunken whisper. "Shhhh," he added as an afterthought, ignorant of Mordred's unimpressed look as he continued up the stairs and down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.

Finally, he made it to Merlin's room. Opening the door, he squinted into the dim light of the room and let out a triumphant sound when he spied Merlin asleep beneath the duvet. The sound he'd made registered in his mind a few seconds later and again he made a shushing noise as he weaved his way toward the bed.

"Fuck!" Arthur cursed as his drunken perception had him banging his shin into the corner of the bed frame.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was soft and heavy with sleep.

"Merlin," Arthur answered as he gave up all hope of stealth and clambered onto the bed. He heard Merlin gasp softly as he crawled over Merlin's body and settled himself between him and the wall. Once there, Arthur threw an arm over Merlin's waist and pulled him close, burying his face in Merlin's neck with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Merlin asked, sounding decidedly more awake.

"Merlin...need you," Arthur mumbled into his skin, nuzzling closer as the warmth of Merlin's body began to lull him to sleep. "My Merlin..."

The last thing Arthur's drunken mind registered was Merlin's body relaxing into him and a faint whisper of 'goodnight'.


	3. Part III

Arthur woke with a groan. His head was pounding violently as the sunlight somehow managed to seep beneath his closed eyelids to stab into his brain and increase his suffering. With a pitiful whine, he rolled over and buried his head into the pillow, the scent of Merlin soothing him.

Wait. Merlin.

Arthur sat up, cursing at the sudden rush to his head. Ignoring the shrieking protest from his aching brain, he opened his eyes, blinking against the vicious sunlight, and took in his surroundings. Rather than waking on the sofa as he'd first assumed he had, he found himself in Merlin's room. The bed was empty save for him, but the indention on the pillow next to him was evidence that Merlin had spent the night next to him.

How had he got there? He remembered meeting with his father and the subsequent tantrum he'd thrown in the car as well as the pub he'd spent most of the night drinking in. After the pub, his memory got fuzzy. He vaguely remembered stumbling into the house and bursting into Merlin's room. The next thing he could recall was climbing into bed with him and telling him...

"Bloody hell," Arthur rasped, dropping his head into his hands as he winced at the painful scratch of his throat.

Once he finished wallowing in self-pity and abject humiliation, Arthur gave his face a last scrub and swung his legs over the side of the bed. A glimmer of light caught his eye and Arthur smiled gratefully as he saw a glass of water and two Paracetamol on the bedside cabinet. Apparently Merlin wasn't too upset with him over the late-night highjacking of his bed.

Taking the medicine, Arthur drank down every last drop of water, grateful for the cool liquid as it soothed his abused throat. He waited a few minutes to gain his bearings and rose feeling slightly more prepared to face the fallout of his drunken stupidity. The smell of sausages had Arthur's stomach growling before he even made it out of the bedroom.

"Morning," Merlin said cheerfully from his place at the stove as Arthur shuffled into the kitchen. Arthur stared in wonder at the sight of eggs frying in a pan and beans bubbling merrily in a saucepan next to it.

"Is that...?"

"Thought you might be in the mood for a fry-up this morning," he said as he delicately turned the eggs. "You like your eggs runny, right?"

"I...yeah," Arthur answered. He fought against the sudden visceral urge to tackle Merlin and kiss the small smile curving his lips. What happened last night could be excused as a drunken mishap; if he kissed Merlin now, he'd have nothing to blame it on. Arthur stepped away and set about making a pot of coffee to distract himself.

"How are you feeling? And where is my car?"

Arthur shot a quick glance at Merlin and looked away again, focusing on pouring his coffee. "All right, all things considered. I left it in the pub car park. I'll fetch it for you later if you like."

A silence fell and Arthur watched as Merlin filled two plates with the requisite eggs, beans, toast and black pudding. He smiled gratefully as he noted the extra bacon and sausage Merlin allotted him. Gulping at his coffee, Arthur took a moment to wonder if they were going to talk about last night or just ignore it. Should he wait for Merlin to bring it up or should he speak first?

"Merlin, erm," Arthur paused as Merlin looked up and met his eyes. "Where're Morgana and Gwen?"

_Way to wimp out, you prat._ Arthur thought to himself. Merlin shot him a look that suggested that he knew that wasn't what Arthur had meant to ask, but answered anyway.

"Gwen went home with Lance last night and Morgana left early this morning to go shopping. In her words she was 'going to indulge in her lustful shoe fantasies as a reward for a hard week's work'. Between you and me, I think she has a serious shoe addiction."

"Among other things," Arthur said with a snort as they sat at the table. "I'll look into some sort of rehab for her. Shoe Shoppers Anonymous."

Merlin let out a chuckle and silence fell again as they tucked into their breakfast. With a full belly and a bit more coffee, Arthur began to feel human again. Unfortunately, having a clear mind had thoughts of the day before rushing back with a vengeance. Again his father's words echoed in Arthur's head. As if sensing the direction of Arthur's thoughts, Merlin broke the silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Arthur answered automatically. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his father when his head was aching and his stomach was still unsettled. Merlin seemed to accept it, nodding and turning his attention back to his plate, glancing occasionally at Arthur. They finished their breakfast in relative silence with only the occasional taunt or tease. Arthur didn't try to bring up sleeping together again.

Just as they finished cleaning up, Morgana swept through the front door, her arms laden with bags.

"Jesus, Morgana, it's a wonder you have enough money to pay the rent with the amount of footwear you buy," Arthur chided, smirking as she fumbled a bag.

"And it's a wonder you still have bollocks with a smart mouth like that. Now be a gentleman and help me or you _won't_ have."

Arthur rolled his eyes at her threat, but went to help her, hefting most of bags and heading toward her bedroom.

"I'll just get the rest from the car, shall I?" Merlin asked, heading outside without waiting for an answer.

"He's so well trained," Morgana said fondly as she followed Arthur into her room. "Just leave them there on the bed. I'll sort them later."

Arthur arched a brow at the order, but complied.

"Speaking of beds, I noticed you found a new one last night."

The last of the boxes fell to the ground with a clatter as Arthur straightened with a violent blush. "What? You. I don't know what you mean."

Morgana smirked, obviously taking delight in Arthur's discomfort. "Oh, please, Arthur. You weren't exactly quiet when you stumbled oh so gracefully down the hall last night. I poked my head in this morning and saw you two snuggling. It was really was quite sweet."

"Nothing happened and I'd appreciate it if you'd let it go," Arthur insisted, glaring fiercely.

"_Nothing_ happened? God, Arthur, what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"

"Excuse me?"

"Honestly, what is wrong with you? You go around for weeks flirting, playing footsie and making eyes with each other and you _still_ haven't managed to tell Merlin that you like him?"

"I don't like him! I mean, I do, but not like that," Arthur protested feebly, his heart pounding with the blatant lie.

"Uh huh, and I'm sure you crawl into all your platonic friend's beds and cuddle them like you're never going to let go," Morgana replied with a roll of her eyes. She continued, cutting him off when he would have protested again. "Honestly, Arthur, can't you see he likes you, too?"

"What? He...no. We're just friends and he's got Will, anyway," Even Arthur couldn't deny the derision in his voice when he said Will's name.

"I repeat, people who are _just friends_ do not spend the night together like that and Will hasn't been around for months," she pointed out.

"Well, maybe he's just really busy lately."

"Men," Morgana scoffed in disgust. "You're being deliberately obtuse, but whatever. It's not _my_ happiness you're fucking with. It's your own. I will say this; you've got a chance, but Merlin isn't going to wait around forever. If you know what's good for you, you won't let it pass you by."

Before Arthur could think of a response, Merlin came through the door laden with bags and boxes.

"All right, I think I got them all," he said with a smile. It fell a bit when he noticed the tension in the room. "Everything okay?"

Morgana smiled brightly. "Of course, duck. We were just discussing Arthur's stupidity."

Merlin's smile returned, taking on that familiar impish quirk. "So, lots to talk about then?"

"Oi!" Arthur piped up, throwing a pillow at his head. Merlin ducked with ease, a chuckle falling from his lips. Arthur's heart skipped a beat and Morgana caught his eye, raising a brow. He sent her a glare in return.

"You know, it's still early and it's a gorgeous day," Morgana said suddenly, her voice sweetly innocent in a way that had Arthur narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Why don't we go down to Southend?"

"Southend?" Arthur repeated incredulously. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been there, let alone the last time Morgana had. She was more prone to London fine dining and extravagant shopping sprees than seaside walks and fun fair attractions.

"Yeah, we could go to Adventure Island, ride the rollercoasters and whatnot. Just have a bit of fun."

"I've not been in ages," Merlin said, his gaze shifting to Arthur, "It could be fun."

"I suppose," Arthur said hesitantly, still trying to work out Morgana's angle.

"Brilliant! I'll give Gwen a call and see if she and Lance want to go. We can swing by and pick them up on the way."

With that, she lifted her mobile and kicked them out of her room, demanding they be ready to go in thirty minutes. Or else.

xXx

Thirty-five minutes later, Arthur sat with his knee pressed against Merlin's in the back of Morgana's BMW as the five of them made their way to Southend-on-Sea.

Fifteen minutes at the theme park and Morgana's motivation for their little outing became clear. At every chance she got, Morgana pushed Merlin and Arthur together; no matter the ride they went on, Arthur found Merlin at this side. Their legs pressed together on Rage, their hands brushed as they were lifted out of their seats on the Sky Drop and Arthur found himself being squished into the corner of their shared cart on the Scorpion. When they drove the Dodgems, Morgana used her's to bump Arthur's car indiscreetly toward Merlin.

Arthur was torn between irritation at her unsubtle pushing and happiness at the look of child-like joy in Merlin's eyes everytime he smiled. It wasn't as if Arthur didn't appreciate Morgana's efforts - he could hardly complain when they gave him a valid reason to touch Merlin – he just couldn't stand the smug and knowing expressions she kept shooting his way.

Morgana topped the afternoon off by insisting they all ride the Ferris wheel. When Arthur had pointed out the odd number of people, she'd simply smirked and sent a flirtatious smile to the bloke standing just ahead of them. Five minutes later, she slid into a basket with him and Arthur found himself sharing one with Merlin. It was quiet after the excitement of the rollercoasters and Arthur felt himself relaxing and simply enjoying the warmth of Merlin pressed against him. They sat in comfortable silence, their basket swaying gently as they watched the slowly sinking sun.

"This is nice," Merlin said with a soft smile on his face.

"Yeah," Arthur replied, shooting a smile back. His heart stuttered in his chest as he realised just how close they were sitting. The basket was small, but not necessarily small enough to warrant their proximity. Suddenly, Arthur wanted nothing more than to thank Morgana for her interfering ways.

Swallowing hard, Arthur leaned forward slightly, watching as Merlin's eyes widened in surprise and then shuttered slightly in what might have been anticipation. Just as he'd gathered enough courage to close the distance, the ride jerked to a stop. The jarring movement broke the moment and the atmosphere turned awkward as they waited for the operator to lower their basket.

When they were finally let out, Arthur followed Merlin to the exit where the others were waiting, a small pout on his face. Morgana arched a brow at him and his pout deepened. She rolled her eyes and turned to the rest of the group with a bright smile.

"So, where to next?"

"We hate to ditch you guys, but Lance and I were hoping to take a walk down the pier and watch the sunset. Maybe get a hotel room or something," Gwen said, blushing lightly at the last.

"Oh, you should," Morgana urged, shooting her a meaningful look. Gwen's lips quirked into a tiny smile, her eyes flicking between him and Merlin and Arthur knew if she hadn't been in on Morgana's scheme before, she was now. "You deserve a night away, after all."

"Yeah, don't worry about us," Merlin said earnestly, clearly oblivious to the devious exchange of womanly wiles. "Have fun."

"Thanks, Merlin. We will," Gwen said. Lance said his goodbyes and, with one last conspiratorial glance at Morgana, Gwen followed him toward the pier.

"And then there were three," Merlin said.

"Actually," Morgana interjected with a sweet smile, "Mark and I really hit it off."

She paused to shoot her Ferris wheel man a saucy wink. He beamed like an idiot and Arthur had to fight not to roll his eyes. Morgana had a gift for wrapping men around her finger and this one was clearly already a goner.

"He wants to take me to dinner and maybe hit the club after and I simply couldn't refuse."

"I'll bet you couldn't," Arthur muttered.

"Will you two be all right getting home?" she asked Merlin, ignoring Arthur entirely.

"Sure. We'll get the train. You go have fun," he answered.

"Brilliant. I'll probably be out all night, so don't wait up."

Shooting Arthur one last pointed look, Morgana turned and collected her date and headed out of the park. Arthur watched her go with exasperated fondness. She really was a piece of work.

"So, it's just you and me," Merlin said, his voice cutting neatly through the silence.

"Yeah," Arthur said, fighting the urge to shuffle awkwardly. It wasn't as if they hadn't already spent loads of time together just the two of them, but this was so obviously a set-up that even Merlin couldn't mistake it for anything else. They stood there for a few moments, both seemingly at a loss as to what to do next.

"How about the arcades?" Arthur suggested suddenly, butterflies assaulting his stomach at Merlin's boyish grin.

"Brilliant! I can kick your arse at air hockey."

Arthur scoffed as they headed for the Golden Mile of arcades. "As if. I am the undisputed king of air hockey. All shall bow before me!"

xXx

Thirty minutes and five losses later, Arthur was pouting and blaming his defeat on some nonexistent defect in the table.

"Obviously the air pumps harder on my side. It's the only way to explain the amount of times you scored when shots didn't even come close!"

"Uh huh, I'm sure that's the _only_ possible explanation," Merlin said sarcastically, his eyes alight with humour.

"Come on! You saw how that last shot went! The puck just stopped," Arthur insisted, his arms gesticulating wildly at the offending table.

"You're a really bad loser, aren't you?"

Arthur simply pouted some more, grumbling about faulty equipment and smug prats rubbing it in. His mumbled complaints only served to make Merlin smile wider and his dimples peek out. The sight went a long way in easing Arthur's trampled pride. Arthur could handle Merlin beating him if it meant he smiled at him like that.

"Just don't let it go to your head," he replied, nudging Merlin with his hip. A sudden flash of light caught Arthur's eye just over Merlin's shoulder. He straightened and tilted his head to stare at the odd machine in the far corner of the arcade. "Hey, what's that? I don't think I've seen one of those before."

As if drawn by a cord, Arthur crossed the room to stand in front of the machine. He felt Merlin come to stand next to him, his soft 'wow' lost to Arthur as his eyes took in every detail. It consisted of long glass case supported by a stand of gilded gold that trailed up the edges of the glass, coming to a flourished point at the top. Inside the case was a carved, iridescent gold dragon with shimmering red eyes. The carving was exquisitely detailed, but it was its eyes that caught Arthur's attention. They seemed almost intelligent. Alive.

"_Kilgharrah_," Merlin said, reading the name etched across the top of the machine, "_None of us can escape our destiny_. Hey, you know what this reminds me of? Zoltar Speaks."

Merlin's voice broke Arthur's trance and he turned from the dragon to frown at him.

"What?"

"Zoltar Speaks. You know, from the film _Big_," Merlin explained.

"Never saw it."

"How can you never have seen _Big_? It's classic!"

Arthur arched a brow, silently bidding Merlin move past his indignation and get on with his explanation.

"Anyway, basically the main character finds the machine and uses it to make a wish. When he wakes up the next morning, the wish has come true. Although," Merlin mused as he inspected the words just above the coin slot, "this one looks like it's a fortune-telling machine rather than a wish-granting one."

"Strange," Arthur murmured, caught by the dragon's eyes again.

"Here, I'll buy you your fortune," Merlin said, slipping a coin into the slot, "maybe it will help distract your from your ignominious defeat."

Arthur spared a moment to make a face at him before he wrapped his hands around the levers sticking out of the front of the machine. He twisted them each around once and watch in fascination as the Dragon's wings flapped and its head bobbed almost menacingly. Its eyes flared brilliant red a second before a tiny card popped out of the base of the machine near the coin slot.

With a strange feeling of trepidation, Arthur reached down and lifted the card.

"What does it say?" Merlin asked, coming around to read over Arthur's shoulder. "_Destinies entwined, like two sides of the same coin; you have found the half which completes you._. Well, that's odd. It doesn't really sound like a prediction. What do you think it means, 'two sides of the same coin'?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered, but his gut was telling him he did. The other half of his coin was Merlin. It sounded ludicrous in his head, but he could_feel_ it.

"Do you think it's talking about finding your soulmate or something? Isn't that usually what fortune tellers usually try to predict?" Merlin suggested, an odd smile on his face.

"Maybe," Arthur said absently, his gaze locked on Merlin's and Morgana's words ringing in his ears alongside the fortune. This was his chance. "Listen, what do you say we get out of here? We'll have the house to ourselves. We could catch the train back, pick up some takeaway and watch crappy zombie movies or something."

"That sounds..." Merlin broke off as his mobile received a text. Shooting Arthur an apologetic smile, he checked it. Arthur watched with trepidation as Merlin's expression turned conflicted.

"Everything okay?" he asked hesitantly, not actually sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Yeah. Um, yeah, it's fine. It's just Will. He wants to meet up," Merlin answered, not quite meeting Arthur's gaze.

Arthur felt his heart drop into his stomach like a lead stone. Except, lead stones don't crumble when they land and he was pretty certain that his heart just had. "Oh, right. Well, you'll want to go, right? I mean, it's been a while, after all. Don't let me get in the way."

"You want me to go?"

"Well, I'd hate to interfere with your 'shag time', you know," Arthur said with a smile that probably looked more like a pained grimace. "It's getting late. You should go. I'm going to hang about a bit longer."

Arthur shifted under the intensity of Merlin's gaze, feeling as though he was being stripped down to the bone and everything he was trying so hard to hide was being laid bare.

"Right. I guess I'll see you then," he said hastily, eager to get away from Merlin before he figured out just how _not_ okay he was with the whole situation. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away. He thought he might have heard Merlin call his name, but he ignored it and disappeared into the crowd.

Arthur kept walking until he was back at Adventure Island and the arcade was small in the distance. He wandered around the park for a bit, wallowing in his misfortune. Morgana had been right. His chance had been there and he'd missed it. Will was back. Merlin would go to his house and Will would kiss him and touch him and...

Arthur growled out loud at the mental images that assaulted him, making a young girl stare at him in shock. He ignored her as she edged away muttering something about 'psychos' and stared down at the crumpled fortune still in his hand.

_Two sides of the same coin..._

"Yeah right," Arthur scoffed bitterly, tearing it and letting the two halves drift to the ground.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Arthur hunched his shoulders against the sudden chill in the wind and headed for the train station. He spent the entire hour-long journey rehashing the events of the past forty-eight hours and came to the conclusion that this was the worst weekend in the history of weekends. This train of thought continued through his walk home from the station and right up until he climbed the steps up to the house.

Arthur frowned as he saw the sitting room lights shining brightly through a crack in the curtains. Figuring Morgana had changed her mind about the bloke she'd pulled, he slipped his keys back into his pocket and walked through the door. The second he looked up, Arthur froze. There was a stack of DVDs on the coffee table next to a veritable feast of Chinese take away. Morgana hated Chinese.

"What the...?"

"Hey, you made it. I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

Arthur's shock doubled as he watched Merlin come in from the kitchen carrying a pair of forks and a welcoming smile on his face. Unable to find words just yet, Arthur just stared. Merlin shifted under his gaze, his smile faltering a bit before brightening as he waved the cutlery.

"Thought we could use forks after what happened with the sticks last time. That was pretty embarrassing," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"That wasn't my fault," Arthur replied automatically.

"Of course not. I'm sure the noodles simply had a vendetta against you."

"What happened?"

"Well, if I remember correctly, it was an issue with your grip."

"No. I mean why are you here?"

Merlin's face fell, hurt showing in his eyes and Arthur could have kicked himself.

"That's not what I meant," he amended quickly, "I just mean...why aren't you with Will? I thought you were going to meet him."

The line of Merlin's shoulders relaxed and a small smile quirked the edge of his lips. "I'd rather be here with you."

He said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. As if Arthur should have known and really, he probably should have. Arthur could practically feel his heart mending at the confession, growing until if felt as if it would burst from his chest. It took him a moment to realise that he was standing there grinning like an idiot rather than doing what he'd been wanting to do for weeks; kissing Merlin.

"Anyway, so I got the takeaway; sweet and sour pork's your favourite, right? And, um, I rented pretty much every horrible zombie movie I could find at the video store..."

Arthur stopped his rambling monologue by cupping the back of his neck and finally, _finally_, slanting his lips over Merlin's. Merlin tensed for the barest hint of a moment before melting into the kiss with a soft moan that rose chills on every inch of Arthur's body.

"God, I'm an idiot," Arthur murmured against Merlin's lips, letting his hands slip down to grip Merlin's hips

"It's about time you admitted it," Merlin said with a smirk. He let out a delightful little gasp as Arthur nipped at his neck in rebuke.

"And you are a cheeky fucker," he retorted. "At least I've finally found a pleasant way of shutting you up."

Before Merlin could reply, Arthur took his lips again. He licked eagerly into Merlin's mouth, tracing every inch and drinking down the gorgeous little whimpers Arthur drew from him. Arthur slid his hands up under Merlin's hoodie, ghosting his fingers over the warm flesh of his stomach. Merlin let out a soft gasp at the touch and suddenly, Arthur was being pushed backward onto the sofa.

"Wow, you're quite forceful when you want to be," Arthur said. He'd been aiming for teasing, but somehow the words had come out husky and deep with want. Merlin smirked as he straddled Arthur's lap, bringing their groins in contact in the most delicious way.

"When I know what I want," he replied, arching his hips to grind their trapped erections together. Arthur groaned, his hands lifting automatically to Merlin's hips to hold him in place as Merlin leaned in for another searing kiss.

Just as they developed a rhythm, a shudder went down Arthur's spine.

"We can't do this here," he said, gasping softly as Merlin's lips teased at the spot just behind his ear.

"Sure we can," Merlin purred, "The girls are gone for the night. We've the house to ourselves."

"Not exactly," Arthur said, jerking his head at the cat perched on the arm of the sofa. Mordred was watching them with an intense look that made Arthur feel as though more than just his chest was on display.

"Honestly, Arthur, he's a cat. It's not like he'll know the difference."

"I don't care. I can't do it with him watching us."

"You're ridiculous," Merlin said, his lips quirked into a fond smile as he slid off Arthur's lap and held a hand out to him. Arthur took it and let Merlin pull him off the sofa and out of the room, sparing one last glare for the voyeuristic kitty.

The second the bedroom door was shut, Merlin was kissing Arthur again, pulling him toward the bed. In a matter of moments, Arthur found himself naked and pressing Merlin into the mattress. He pulled back to admire the sight of Merlin spread out beneath him, flushed and with kiss-swollen lips, looking for all the world like he would devour Arthur at any moment.

"Fucking hell, you're beautiful," Arthur breathed, the truth of it hitting him like a revelation.

Merlin blushed and looked away for a moment before pulling Arthur back down for another mind-numbing kiss. "You're not so bad yourself," he mumbled as his hands slid down to cup Arthur's arse. The contact made Arthur's eyes roll up in his head as it forced their cocks to slide together, the wetness from the heads making the friction silky and utterly brilliant. And to think he'd almost missed this because he'd thought Merlin had wanted Will.

The thought had Arthur sobering suddenly. Did Merlin see him as another Will? Maybe some sort of convenient switch because they had easy access to one another?

"I'm not Will," Arthur blurted recklessly. He could have smacked himself for his utter lack of tact.

Merlin pulled back with a frown, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he stilled beneath Arthur. "What?"

Arthur took a deep breath and prayed he wouldn't fuck this up any more than he possibly already had. "Look, I just mean that I'm not looking for a fuck buddy or an easy lay. If we do this, I want it to be real. I want it to be _us_. Not as friends. As something more. _Two sides of the same coin_."

Arthur felt his face flush as the words from the fortune fell unbidden from his lips, but he held Merlin's gaze, unable and unwilling to look away. He watched as Merlin's frown slipped from his face to be replaced by a brilliant smile.

"I didn't have any intention of letting you be anything else," Merlin said, running his hand through Arthur's hair and down to cup the back of his neck. His smile turned impish as he tightened his grip and pulled Arthur down to him until their lips were just shy of meeting. "Now are you going to fuck me, or not?"

Merlin punctuated the question with an upward thrust that drew a gasp from Arthur.

"Very forceful," Arthur murmured with a breathless chuckle."Show me how."

Merlin talked Arthur through basic stretching and preparation, his moans of encouragement going straight to Arthur's cock and before he knew it, Merlin was sliding a condom down Arthur's length and guiding him in.

Arthur had been with plenty of people in his life, but being with Merlin was like nothing he'd ever experienced. Not because he was a man - though that was definitely something new and wondrous in and of itself – but because the moment Arthur slid inside of Merlin, he felt something click into place. Beyond the unbelievable pleasure of the tight heat that gripped him, there was an unmistakable feeling of coming home. This was where he was meant to be; who he was meant to be with. Merlin was his destiny.

_...the half that completes you._

The rush of emotion that crashed over him left Arthur trembling as he began to move, his eyes locked on Merlin's. Every moan, every gasp, every sigh made his heart swell until he thought he would burst with the pleasure of seeing Merlin come apart beneath him. Time seemed disjointed; both slowing and quickening with every thrust. It seemed they made love for hours, and yet, in minutes, Arthur felt himself teetering on the edge. He stayed there for a breath of a moment, Merlin's blue gaze, dark with lust, pinning him on the precipice before he tumbled over, crying out as he lost himself in Merlin.

xXx

Later that night; after they'd wrapped themselves in their respective Snuggies at Arthur's insistence ("I will not have the demon cat ogling your bits."), they sat on the sofa and devoured the reheated takeaway with relish. They bickered over the merits of Shaun of the Dead versus Zombieland before finally settling on Shaun of the Dead ("A classic British zombie spoof always trumps an American one, even if the American one features a cameo by Bill Murray."). They made it halfway through the movie before a fight over the last spring roll degenerated into another round of spectacular sex.

"Okay," Arthur said, panting heavily as he waited for his heart to settle, "I revise my opinion. This is officially the best weekend I've ever had."

"Yeah?" Merlin asked softly up from his place on Arthur's chest. "Even with what happened with your father?"

Arthur sighed at the reminder, but nodded. "Yeah. Even with that."

"Do you want to talk about it, now?"

Arthur had already opened his mouth to say 'no' when he realised he _did_ want to talk about it. At least with Merlin. "It was an ambush."

Merlin shifted against Arthur's chest and propped himself on one elbow to look down at him, showing Arthur he had his full attention.

"Vivian was there. She'd gone running to him when she finally got the hint that I wasn't going to give in to her. Basically it was some sort of intervention. He thinks I'm just being stubborn or holding out for more money. That I just 'need the right incentive to do as I'm told'. He offered me a raise and a promotion."

"And you turned it down," Merlin said, approval blatant in his words.

"Of course I did. God, you should have seen his face. He was so smug, so sure of himself. Like he was so confident he'd figured me out," Arthur let out a humourless laugh. "He seemed genuinely shocked that I turned him down. It's amazing that after twenty-seven years, I'm still a mystery to him. Vivian told him about Albion, you know. Do you want to know what he told me? He said he was ashamed of me."

Arthur's gaze lowered, his voice cracking around the words, unable to hide the hurt that they had caused.

"He's the one who should be ashamed," Merlin fairly growled, cupping Arthur's chin and turning his head, gently forcing him to meet his fierce blue gaze. "Do you know how many people in your situation would have had the strength to even _try_ to make it on their own, let alone have had the courage to say 'no' in the first place? You are brave and strong and you have _nothing_ to be ashamed of."

"Not in his world," he answered with a broken smile. "In Uther Pendragon's world, a man's worth is measured by the things he has; what he's earned for himself. After all, he built Camelot Industries from the ground up. For someone like that, working in a coffee shop isn't much of an achievement."

"And what about you? What do you think?"

"I think I've done all right and obviously I don't think there's anything wrong with working at Albion," Arthur replied. He frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose I just want to do more, you know?"

"You still can," Merlin said, his thumb stroking lightly at Arthur's jaw. "Look at what you did for the cafe. Your redesign has not only replaced the funds we lost, but brought new customers out of the woodwork. We're doing brilliantly because of you."

"It wasn't anything major," Arthur protested, "just a simple bit of marketing strategy."

"But it's something that Gaius and I would never have thought to do," he insisted, his eyes lighting with excitement. "What about doing something like that?"

"What? Marketing?"

"Yeah. I mean, there have to be loads of businesses who could use a revamp. I bet they'd pay handsomely to have someone come in and revive their business."

"Like a consultant?" Arthur supplied, turning the idea over in his mind.

"Exactly! Arthur Pendragon, Marketing Consultant. You could start your own company."

"I don't know," Arthur mused, worrying his lip. "Do you really think I could?"

"Of course! You'd be brilliant at it."

"I don't know anything about starting a company."

"I bet Lance would help, after all, he started his shop," Merlin pointed out. "And you'll have me."

Arthur's heart turned over in his chest at the conviction in Merlin's face; his absolute confidence in him. It was incredibly humbling and elating all at once. He realised in that moment just how much Merlin meant to him. How much he loved him.

"All right," Arthur said past the sudden lump in his throat.

"Yeah?" Merlin asked, a grin spreading on his face.

"Yeah. Let's give it a go."

xXx

Four months later, Excalibur was up and running. Arthur already had a small string of clients in his portfolio and with the feedback he'd been getting, he had a feeling the list was only going to grow. The work itself was a dream. Arthur got to go into tired businesses and inject new life into them. He got to be creative and innovative on a daily basis and it was doing wonders for his confidence.

It had been a gruelling few months, but Arthur had had plenty of support along the way. Lance had been a godsend; helping Arthur through all the messy bits of setting up his business with his usual smile. Gwen and Morgana had been eager to help as well, pitching ideas for logos, business slogans and offering to give him a hand canvassing local businesses.

Through it all, he'd had Merlin. Merlin had held him up when he thought he was going to collapse beneath the pressure; always there to tell him when he was doing well and never afraid to tell him when he was being a prat. He'd become Arthur's advisor as well as his friend and lover. Without him, Arthur was certain he never would have succeeded.

The only thing Arthur regretted was not being able to share that success with his father. Despite having said goodbye, there would always be a part of him that longed for his acceptance and love. He had thought several times about calling Uther to tell him about Excalibur, but he'd always backed out; afraid of being mocked and facing yet another rejection.

Arthur had pretty much given up all hope that his father would ever forgive him for his perceived slight. Which is why when he found Uther on the other side of Morgana's door a few weeks before Christmas looking both pained and sheepish he'd simply frozen like a deer headlights.

"Father. What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Arthur. I wanted to talk to you," Uther said, shifting in a way that, were he anyone else, Arthur would have described as nervous. "Is Morgana home?"

"Er, no. She's on a date, actually."

Uther nodded distractedly. "Indeed. Well, I suppose that will make things easier for now."

Arthur frowned slightly, but said nothing. He still hadn't quite got over the fact that his father was standing on his doorstep. After a few more moments of silence, Uther arched an expectant brow and Arthur started out of his shock enough to open the door wider.

"Sorry. Please, come in," he said, stepping aside.

"Arthur, who is it?" Merlin called as he made his way out of the kitchen. He paused as he looked up, his brows rising in mild surprise before he affected a polite smile. "Oh, I see."

"Merlin, this is my father, Uther Pendragon. Father, this is Merlin Emrys," Arthur introduced, leaving off the bit about Merlin being his boyfriend until he could suss out the reason behind Uther's sudden visit.

"Pleasure to meet you," Merlin said, extending his hand. After only a moment's hesitation, Uther finally reached out to shake it, acknowledging Merlin's pleasantries with a firm nod of his head.

There was an awkward silence before Merlin turned to Arthur, arching his brow in silent question. Arthur nodded and gave him a subtle smile.

"Right, well, I've a few things to pick up at the shop before I can finish dinner. If you'll excuse me."

Arthur watched him move to the coat rack, searching in vain for his coat.

"Take mine," he said with a small smile. Merlin returned it in kind and pulled Arthur's jacket off the hook. Arthur's eyes followed his movements fondly as Merlin donned his winter hat, unable to look away until Merlin slipped out the door. When he turned back, Uther was watching him with calculating eyes. Clearing his throat, Arthur gestured to the sofa.

"Shall we sit?"

They sat in awkward silence for a few long moments, neither one sure what to say.

"Would you like some tea?" Arthur asked, belatedly remembering his manners.

"No, thank you," Uther answered curtly, "I'll just say what I came here to say."

Arthur waited, perched on the edge of the sofa and fighting the urge to fidget. He was beginning to think his father had changed his mind when Uther finally began to speak.

"I have been the Managing Director of Camelot for many years now. I've worked hard to get where I am; put in endless hours of sweat, blood and devotion to make the best of myself that I possibly could. My company's success so often depended on my gut instinct for survival and it has rarely failed me. As such, I'm unaccustomed to having my judgement questioned," he said with a pointed look. Arthur felt his ire rise and, anticipating Uther's next words, readied himself for an argument.

"However," Uther continued before Arthur could open his mouth to speak, "I am not infallible. I have, on rare occasions, had the rather unpleasant experience of being in the wrong. While I am not fond of such times, I like to think myself man enough to admit when they come about."

Arthur simply stared, not quite able to believe what he was hearing.

"What I'm trying to say is that I was wrong about Vivan."

"You were wrong?" Arthur parroted, wondering if he'd heard correctly.

"After you left, Miss Turner seemed to have a rather extraordinary change of heart. I won't go into all the details, but suffice to say, her sudden amorous intent toward me had me considering your words. I did some digging and it turns out Turner Industries has been insolvent for month. They were hoping to rectify their losses by bringing Camelot into the mix. It's obvious that when Vivian saw that she could not get you to comply, she decided that she would attempt to seduce me."

Arthur bit back the urge to say 'I told you so'. He knew how hard it must have been for his father to lower his pride enough to show up there, let alone actually admit to being wrong about something.

"In any case, I should have been more thorough in investigating the match."

"You should have let me make my own match," Arthur corrected gently, not wanting to start a row, but not quite willing to let his father think what he'd done was all right. "I'm not used to having my judgement questioned, either."

Uther arched a brow and studied Arthur closely before inclining his head with the barest hint of a smile. "No, I don't suppose you are."

Arthur felt the tension drain out of him as he realised that his father wasn't going to fight with him. There'd been far too much of that already and he was rather enjoying the tentative reconciliation had sprung up between them.

"I should have known...dear God, what the bloody hell is that?"

Arthur started at his father's uncharacteristic outburst and turned to see Mordred sauntering into the sitting room, flaunting his stylish red sweater with his usual evil glare.

"I'm told it's a cat," Arthur said wryly

"That is most certainly _not_ a cat," Uther replied, grimacing as Mordred turned the full weight of his demon gaze on him.

"Thank you! That's what I told Morgana."

"Why is it wearing a jumper?"

"Because Merlin is a soulless bastard who enjoys rubbing salt in my wound," Arthur answered easily.

"Merlin, huh?" Uther mused, his gaze turning thoughtful as he regarded Arthur. "I'd wager he is also the one who sent me this."

Arthur watched as Uther pulled a familiar business card out of his coat pocket.

"That sneaky little tosser," he murmured as his eyes tracked over the word _Excalibur_ emblazoned on the front.

"It seems he wanted me to see what you've been up to. I must admit, my curiosity got the better of me, so I had a look."

"And?" Arthur prompted tentatively, unable to stifle the hope that rose within him.

"And after a thorough investigation of your fledgling company, I have to say that I've never been more proud of you," Uther said, his tone lending credence to his words.

It was all Arthur could do to stay in his seat rather than indulging in a more overt display of affection that would have left them both feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Instead, he beamed at Uther, unable to say anything save for, "Thank you, Father."

Uther inclined his head. "It was praise well earned, though you have been sorely missed at Camelot. I don't suppose there's any use in trying to tempt you back?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I'm quite happy with Excalibur."

"As well you should be. Do let me know if I can be of any help. I happen to know a few things when it comes to starting a business."

"Thank you, father, I'll keep that in mind," Arthur said with a nod. He couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed so surreal having his father sitting on his sofa and not only approving of his choices but expressing pride in him. It was like some sort of miracle.

Uther's expression closed off, turning calculating again and Arthur had the impression that he may have spoken too soon.

"Given the fact that he sent the card as well as what I gathered from your little exchange earlier, would I be correct in assuming this Merlin is more than just a friend?"

"He's my partner."

Uther's expression tightened slightly. "I take it you don't mean in the business sense."

"I'm in love with him," Arthur clarified, happy to say the words aloud despite Uther's inevitable disapproval.

"I thought as much," he said, pursing his lips. "I can't say that I approve."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue.

"But," Uther continued, "given my recent record regarding my judgement on that aspect of your life, I suppose I have no room to speak. Besides," his expression softened just a bit, "the way he looks at you reminds me of Ygraine."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat. His father never spoke of his mother. Her death had been too much for him to handle and he'd shut himself away from it. Arthur knew almost nothing about his mother, save for rumours of her beauty and how much his father had loved her. That he was comparing Merlin to her showed just how evident his love for Arthur was. Not even Uther could deny it.

"He loves you."

"Yes," Arthur managed, barely able to speak past the lump in his throat.

Uther nodded. "Then I suppose I shall just have to get used to it."

xXx

Uther stayed just long enough to have a cup of tea before leaving with a reminder to ring him should he need business advice. Arthur agreed and watched as his father slid into his car and drove away.

Merlin returned only minutes after Uther's departure with a tentative smile on his face. "So, how did it go?"

Arthur smiled. "Unbelievably well."

He told Merlin everything that had been said, sparing an arched brow when he made mention of Merlin's hand in his father's visit. Merlin blushed, but refused to confirm it save for a comment about fate occasionally needing a tiny push. Arthur let it go; how could he possibly be upset when the end result had got him his father back?

"He asked about you, of course."

Merlin arched a brow. "Oh? What did you tell him, then?"

"The truth," Arthur answered with a smile, "that you are sneaky little tosser."

"How flattering."

"And that I'm completely and utterly in love with you," he added, pulling Merlin close to nuzzle at his neck. The skin beneath Arthur's lips heated even as Merlin scoffed and gave a half-hearted attempt to shove him away.

"Don't even try to butter me up, Arthur Pendragon," he warned, his smile evident in his tone. "It's not going to work."

"Come on, _Mer_lin. Give us a kiss," Arthur purred, nudging Merlin's nose with his.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but complied, leaning forward to brush his lips lightly over Arthur's in a teasing gesture. Arthur moaned softly and pressed closer, deepening the kiss as his hands slid beneath Merlin's hoodie under his coat.

Merlin allowed it for a few moments before breaking the kiss with a breathless chuckle.

"I have to finish dinner," he said, brushing one last kiss across Arthur's lips as he pulled away.

Arthur pouted, but allowed him to go. "Fine, but you're making it up to me later," he said with a playful slap to Merlin's arse.

"Forgive me for wanting to feed you," Merlin replied with a snarky smirk as he moved to take off his coat. His expression cleared suddenly as he reached into the pocket of the borrowed coat and pulled out a square of paper. "I almost forgot. Look what I found on my way to the shop."

Arthur smiled curiously and reached out to take the paper from Merlin. His heart stopped as he saw what it was. There, in his hand, was the card from the fortune-telling machine. The card he'd torn into two halves and left skittering away in the breeze in Southend-on-Sea.

"I'm surprised you kept it," Merlin said as he moved away and into the kitchen.

The sound of plates being shuffled met his ears, but Arthur couldn't tear his gaze away from the little card. His fortune was still there in swirling print. Smiling to himself in bemusement, Arthur turned the card over and took in the drawing of the dragon, somehow still so lifelike, even in print. Arthur drew his thumb over the words that curled just beneath the dragon.

_None of us can escape our destiny._

A muted crash met his ears, followed by a low curse and a call of, "I'm all right!"

Arthur's smile widened and turned fond. He couldn't escape his destiny, but really, why would he want to?


End file.
